


maybe that is why I'm enamored with the thought of seeing angels in the sky that are singing

by fernfuneral



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, No Smut, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, Very Very Slow Burn, gordon and benrey are both so fucked up, there are gonna be some graphic parts later on bc like i said gordon is fucked up, this is gonna be a long ride boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fernfuneral/pseuds/fernfuneral
Summary: Turns out healing from an alien invasion closely followed by attempted murder-by-eldritch-being is a lot more difficult when said eldritch being starts showing up in your dreams. Gordon’s gonna need a lot more than soda for this one.+++benrey redemption!! gordon trauma!! a lot of miscommunication!!ON INDEFINITE HIATUS AS OF OCTOBER 2020
Relationships: Benrey & Tommy Coolatta, Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life) (Background), Gordon Freeman/Original Female Character(s) (Past), Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman
Comments: 336
Kudos: 1178





	1. please shoot me in the face, but first let me smoke your cigarette that's laced with fucking arsenic and mace

Gordon’s apartment was quiet. That was the first thing that hit him when he finally got home after everything was over. It was so quiet. In Black Mesa even when they were resting there was some sort of noise, and now there was nothing but the dull buzz of the fridge in his kitchen. He stepped through the doorway, and it felt unreal. He knew that the full weight of everything that’d happened to them would hit him eventually, but right now he just stood there, silent in the doorway of his silent apartment. 

The Science Team had split up to their respective homes after Tommy’s party. They’d left with the promise of getting back together sometime, meeting when everything settled, and Gordon had trudged home, dead on his feet. He was so tired, but at the same time, he felt lighter than he had in years. He and the others had made it through all of the shit that Black Mesa threw at them, and they were finally back to the real world. One without aliens, and death at every corner and Benrey, fucking Benrey. Gordon couldn’t even begin to comprehend whatever eldritch bullshit happened with him. He was honestly just glad to be alive.

Gordon huffed, walking forwards into his kitchen, closing his door behind him. There was a thin layer of dust on the counters, a product of weeks of disuse while he lived in the dormitory at Black Mesa. Even still, it was exactly as it’d been before he left, in an incredibly comforting way. He’d missed having his own space, it was nice in a way he hadn’t known he’d forgotten. There was a picture of Joshua on the fridge, different from the one in his locker at Black Mesa. He lifted it off of the metal, looking at his son’s face. He could have died in that hell.

“Fuck…” He sighed, bringing his free hand up to his face and rubbing his eyes, “I need to get some sleep.” 

He stumbled forwards into his room, falling down onto his bed as soon as he was close enough to do so. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, contemplating whether or not it was worth it to try to take off his HEV suit and change into more comfortable clothes before deciding against it. Gordon rolled onto his side, eyes already sliding shut. And then he was asleep.

+++

The halls of Black Mesa were unnaturally silent, the heavy sort that drowns out everything. Gordon could feel Tommy shift in his sleep next to him, but he couldn’t hear anything other than the telltale click of claws from deeper in the building. They’d stopped to rest, but Gordon couldn’t find any peace knowing what was out there. The others were sleeping, laying in a circle in the room they’d stopped in, and Gordon sat on the edge sitting in a makeshift watch. Benrey wasn’t there, hadn’t been there for a while. 

A clatter from the hall to his right caused Gordon to turn, hand already drifting to his pistol, but there didn’t seem to be anything rushing in to attack them.

“What the hell?” He whispered, standing and walking towards the entrance. He stepped through the doorway, ready to fight if need be, but the hallway was empty as far as he could see, interrupted only by the flickering of one of the overhead lights. “Must be hearing things.”

He turned around, hoping to sit back down for a quiet night of watch, but paused, staring at the figure that’d appeared in the room while he had his back to it.

“What the fuck… what are you doing here Benrey?”

The guard glanced up from where he’d been looking down at the others and Gordon had to fight the urge to gag. Benrey’s face was decaying, gray skin sagging low on his gaunt face. His eyes were sunken, bloodshot, and he looked entirely different from the man Gordon remembered from Black Mesa. He had blood smeared on his cheek, and Gordon couldn’t tell if it was his or someone else’s. Most of all, he looked… sad. Sad and a bit scared. This wasn’t the smug guard from the first day or the giant being from the last, but a man lost and confused. It was the most human Gordon had ever seen him. 

“I…” And here Benrey paused, staring at Gordon. “I don’t know.”

The overhead lights in the room flickered rapidly before shutting off and goosebumps broke out across Gordon’s skin. Benrey shook, fingers flexing slowly as he looked around, eyes darting back and forth frantically. 

“What did you do to me?” He turned fully towards Gordon, the dark skin under his eyes slowly dripping down, revealing the pearly bone of his skull beneath. “Why does everything hurt? What did you do?”

“Benrey, I didn’t do shit to you! You tried to kill _us_ , remember?” Gordon said, fighting to keep his voice level as a sudden rush of anger hit him.

“No, no, this isn’t right! I don’t get hurt. Things aren’t supposed to hurt me!” The guard was getting desperate at this point, taking a staggering step towards Gordon. The walls darkened as he talked, shadows sloughing down to coat his legs, covering the sleeping forms of the other scientists. “What did you do?” 

Gordon stepped back, a spike of panic stinging up his spine, chasing away the anger. This wasn’t some joke, this was Benrey at his core, stripped bare. He held his hands in front of him in a placating gesture, trying to calm the guard down.

“Hey, come on Benrey, let’s talk about this alright? No need to get angry, bud.” 

“What did I do wrong, Gordon?” At this point, Benrey’s face had fully dissolved, his skull a stark white against the shadows surrounding him. He reached his arm forwards, bony fingers barely touching Gordon’s wrist. “Why did you kill me?”

And then Benrey darted forwards with surprising speed, a complete contrast to his previous slow gait, and grasped Gordon’s arm tight enough to hurt. His hollow eyes were pleading, and the inky darkness around him started to obscure his face. Right before he was fully consumed Benrey let out a hoarse whisper.

“What did you do to me?”

+++

Gordon woke up with a jolt, sweat soaking the inside of the HEV suit. Sunlight was streaming through the blinds on his window, and a glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was late afternoon. He was breathing heavily, and he sat silently for a few seconds before scrubbing at his face with his hand and standing. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Benrey’s face decaying, eyes pleading.

He moved into the bathroom and leaned on the sink, staring at himself in his smudgy mirror. The bags under his eyes were dark, and there was a bruise forming on the side of his jaw. His beard was too long and his stubble had grown out. He looked like shit, and he felt like it too. Most of all he was confused. The dream he’d had was a whole mess of things that he didn’t want to unpack but knew he probably should. Meeting his own eyes in the mirror, he huffed out a laugh, bringing his hands up to rub his temples.

“God, I’m really fucked up, aren’t I? Feeling bad for the crazy-ass dude who tried to murder me.” His voice was hoarse, scraped raw from days of yelling. He tried to smile at himself, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth. “Not that I don’t hate him. He was a dick. And now I’m having fucking _dreams_ about him and talking to myself. What the fuck.”

He shook his head, turning away from his mirror and moving back into his bedroom. Slowly, carefully, he peeled the HEV suit off, taking it off for the first time in days. Just another weight off of his back. He finished, throwing on an old shirt and pair of sweatpants and walking into the main room. The mail he’d missed over the last month had been stacked haphazardly on the kitchen counter by his landlord, although it wasn’t much. He walked to it, lifting the envelopes and sifting through them as he opened his fridge. 

There wasn’t much in there, a carton of milk that definitely expired while he was in Black Mesa and a couple of cartons of leftovers. The mail was pretty bare as well, just a rent notice from his landlord and some random advertisements. It was boring, mundane, and it brought him a strange sense of comfort. This was normal, it was the same thing he’d had before Black Mesa, and it was calming to know that it continued through and after.

Before everything, back when he was a sad, broke MIT graduate who’d floated listlessly for years before he took a research job with a shady corporation that only paid $5 above minimum wage. Before everything, when his biggest problem was figuring out what to say to his son during their weekly phone call, and planning how he was going to pay for groceries before inevitably getting takeout again. Now that slice of mundanity was a warm blanket around him because at least it wasn’t fucking aliens and the U.S. Military trying to murder him. 

Gordon set the mail back down on the counter, taking the worst of the leftovers out of the fridge and putting them into the garbage. He’d probably have to deep clean his fridge later, but it could wait. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the facility for, so he’d have to check his computer later. His cell had been in his locker at Black Mesa but he assumed it was destroyed now. One thing for sure, he needed to talk to Joshua. He’d missed their call while everything was happening, and he just needed to hear his son’s voice.

Gordon moved over to the old landline on the wall. It was a little dusty from lack of use, but it should still work. He tapped in the number he knew by heart, holding the phone to his ear and listening to it ring. He thought for a second that she wouldn’t pick up, but then he heard a click and the ringing stopped.

“Hello, this is Maria Sánchez speaking.” She sounded tired, and he could only hope she wouldn’t be too angry with him.

“Uh… Hey Maria, it’s Gordon. I need to talk to Joshua.” He could almost feel her mood shift through the phone. She let out a disbelieving laugh, and when she started talking again rage colored her voice.

“Oh, so you skip your call and ignore all of my attempts to contact you for a week, leaving your son _devastated_ , might I add, and then expect me to just let you speak to him again?”

“Maria…”

“No! You don’t get to talk to him whenever you feel like it, Gordon. Those calls are the highlight of his week! He adores you, you know that.” She takes a deep breath, preparing to speak again, and Gordon answers before she can start.

“Maria, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to miss the call, I promise. It was just… work, y’ know? There was a big accident and I couldn’t get to my phone. I’m sorry, I just need to hear his voice. Please.” He was getting desperate, he knew that, but he needed to talk to Joshua. Maria sighed in resignation, anger bleeding into exhaustion.

“Gordon, you can’t keep doing this. You promised when we worked this out that you would put him first.” Her breath hitches and even after years apart Gordon can still tell that she’s been thinking about this a lot. “He’s your son, and you have to treat him like it. I’ll let you talk to him, but if this happens again I can’t let you call him anymore.”

“Thank you, Maria. This won’t happen again.” She hummed, and he could hear her shuffle on the other side of the call before she called for Joshua. There was the clatter of toys being dropped and then a child’s voice floated across the line.

“Dad! I missed you! Where did you go last week? I waited by the phone for a suuuuper long time for you but then Mommy said I had to go to bed and I was really sad but now you’re here so I’m happy again!” Gordon could hear him suck in a breath, and stopped him before he started rambling.

“Hey, bud, sorry I missed the call,” He paused, smiling softly, before continuing, “I had a really long week at work and I lost my phone. How was your week, Josh?”

“It was really fun! I got to use the Legos at school today and my teacher said that the robot I made with them was really cool and we got to read about dinosaurs because she let me choose the book for reading! And I was sad before now because I missed you but now you’re on the phone! So I’m not sad anymore.” 

Gordon stood quietly, letting his son’s voice wash over him. Out of everything he’d missed while he was in the facility, Joshua was at the top of the list. Not being able to see him was difficult enough; having to miss the call was hell. It was the only time he was able to talk to him, and knowing that he’d hurt him made Gordon feel horrible. He knew that he wasn’t the best father. Before he and Maria split many an argument was had over his long hours, and then after he could only see Josh on special occasions. It was for the best, but that meant nothing when emotions were involved. 

“Josh, I need you to listen to me, okay?” He said, voice serious. Joshua quieted on the other side of the line, listening intently to what Gordon had to say. “The work… the work that I do can be very dangerous sometimes. And if something ever goes wrong, I want you to know that you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me, alright?”

Joshua was silent, and Gordon waited for a response. It was a heavy turn in conversation but he needed Joshua to understand that he might not always be there. Everything that’d happened at Black Mesa made him realize that.

“But…” Joshua paused, voice small. “But nothing bad is going to happen to you right? You’ll be here forever... right?”

“I don’t know if I will. But I want to be sure you know that I love you. And that if I had the choice, I’d be with you right now.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice wavered. “Okay.” 

“I love you, Joshua. Be good for your mom, alright?” Gordon said, a wave of exhaustion rolling over him.

“I love you too Dad. I’ll be good, I promise. But you have to promise not to leave! I don’t like when you leave, it makes me and Mommy sad.”

“I’ll do my best Josh. Goodbye.” He could hear Joshua sniffle on the other side of the phone and everything in him wished that he could be there for him at the moment.

“Bye Dad.”

+++

It was dark, wherever Gordon was, dark enough that he couldn’t even see his hands in front of him. He was standing on solid ground, he could feel it, but other than that all he could feel was a strange feeling, one that made the hair on the back of his neck rise, one that felt inexplicably sorrowful. A pit formed in his stomach, a yawning, empty sensation in his chest. Despite the darkness and the feeling, though, there was a pervasive noise buzzing all around him. It sounded like thousands of people whispering directly in his ear, but no matter how much he strained to decipher what they were saying, he couldn’t comprehend any of it.

He opened his mouth to try to yell into the void around him, but it felt as if someone was squeezing his vocal cords, and whatever he was about to say died on his tongue. Suddenly, as if they were cut off with his own voice, the whispers disappeared altogether, leaving only one. It was frantic, and he still couldn’t understand anything it was saying, only that the person speaking was panicked. And somehow, in a way that he couldn’t put into words, it was lonely. That was the feeling that permeated this place. Loneliness. It was a wild sort of loneliness, the type that consumed everything and left you shivering on your floor in the late hours of the night.

The whisper shifted around Gordon as he stood there until instead of surrounding him, it emanated from a single point behind. He turned, slowly, almost fearful of what he would discover behind him, and paused.

It was Benrey, again, although he looked different from the last time Gordon saw him. He wasn’t decaying anymore, but he was sitting on the ground, somehow visible through the darkness, with his hands clasped behind his head. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his eyes were fixed on the ground in front of his feet. His lips were moving in time with the whispers, but it felt almost artificial. Disjointed in some way. As Gordon’s eyes fell upon him Benrey raised his head, meeting his stare, and Gordon could see two tracks of blood rolling down his cheeks in a sick parody of tears.

“Benrey? What the fuck is going on? Where are we?” He stepped towards the guard, careful so as to not startle him. “Why am I here?”

“Go away, Gordon.” Benrey’s voice was monotone, flat in a way that Gordon had never heard it. Even while they were in Black Mesa, there’d always been the stupid smug lilt to his speech, but now it was empty. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t even know where _here_ is! You’re supposed to be dead, and now you’re in my dreams? I could barely stand you while you were alive, and now I have to deal with this shit?” As Gordon spoke Benrey’s body shook, and the overwhelming feeling of loneliness came crashing down even harder than before. The blood on his cheeks flowed faster, moving from a trickle to a steady stream.

“Gordon. Leave me the _fuck_ alone.” His voice darkened, raw in a way it hadn’t been seconds before. “Wake up, fucking walk away from me, I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”

“Well, it’s sort of hard to do that when you’re apparently the only thing in this place. I don’t know what kind of bullshit trick my mind is trying to play right now, but it isn’t going to work.” He paused, looking Benrey over.

“Give up on the whole ‘helpless victim shtick’, it isn’t flattering and I know you don’t mean it. You probably think this is fucking funny, don’t you? Tormenting me even after you’re dead.”

At this Benrey’s fingers tightened around his helmet, and he started breathing heavily. It was the most emotion Gordon had ever seen him display, and it was strange in a way he couldn’t understand. When the guard spoke again his voice was gravelly and choked, but also tired. Bone-deep exhaustion that was almost palpable.

“I don’t need the constant reminders that you hate me. I’m well aware of that. All of this time, I was just trying to be a nice guy, you know? I may not be the best, but I was _trying_. It didn’t matter how angry I was at you because that was my issue right? But you _fucking_ ruined it! You keep leaving me and ruining everything!” His words stopped abruptly, and he let out a bitter laugh. His hands lowered from where they’d been gripping his helmet, and he looked Gordon directly in the eyes again. “I’m so tired.”

For a moment Gordon stood there, at a loss for words, just looking at Benrey, and then his anger returned full force.

“You’re tired? Seriously? How the _fuck_ do you think I felt at Black Mesa when all you did was run around and fuck shit up? _I’m_ tired of your fucking ‘pity me’ bullshit when you’re the reason everyone hates you! All you did was mess around!” At this point, Gordon was breathing heavily, anger simmering in his veins. “Own up to your fucking actions dude! Maybe people would like you if you weren’t such a dick!”

“You made me like this! I never asked to be stuck with someone who doesn’t give a shit about me! You make me out as the bad guy as if I had any fucking choice!” Benrey paused, looking down at his hands where they were wrapped around his legs. “All I wanted to do was see you again, but I guess nothing has changed.”

“... What?”

“Go away, Gordon.”

There was a brief stretch of silence, and then Gordon spoke up again. “No, what the fuck does that mean? I made you this way? I hadn’t even met you before Black Mesa!”

Benrey shook his head, turning so his back was to Gordon.

“Go _away_ , Gordon.”

And Gordon woke up.


	2. just kill me in my sleep, smother me with pillows and kindness, in which I have never seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which gordon talks to people, avoids his issues, and takes a nap
> 
> TW for graphic depictions of corpses, a panic attack and vomiting. if you want to avoid these, skip the section from "Maybe he'll take a nap." to "His heart was beating wildly in his chest, body tense as he struggled to breathe normally." the vomiting is quick, just skip the paragraph starting with "Gordon regained consciousness quickly," stay safe y'all!! i'll include a brief summary in the notes!!

“Hello, Gordon!” Gordon smiled, holding his phone to his ear as he tried to figure out what to say.

“Hey, Dr. Coomer. How’s it going?”

“Well, it’s been a lot less exciting, hasn’t it? Dr. Bubby and I have been good, although it is a bit strange right now, I’m sure you understand that.” Dr. Coomer seemed to have adjusted much better than Gordon, but that may have just been a difference in how they worked through things. It probably helped that he wasn’t alone like Gordon was.

“That’s good. Uh… Speaking of strange. Have you been having any weird dreams lately?”

“My dreams are always weird Gordon! Do you have any specific reason for asking?” Gordon stood silently for a second, debating how to say ‘Hey remember that crazy dude who tried to kill us? Yeah, he’s appearing in my dreams now, but he’s really sad’ without sounding insane.

“I keep seeing Benrey but he’s like… fucking weird… I don’t know. He’s acting like an actual fucking person with feelings and shit. I don’t know what it means.” There was a rustle from the other end of the line, and Coomer said something to someone, and then he spoke.

“That is very strange! Do you think that it could perhaps be because of the guilt you feel?” Gordon’s brow furrowed as he listened to the older man, confused. “I mean, we did kill him in what could be considered cold blood.”

“I don’t feel any guilt for that asshole. He was trying to kill us! It was warranted.” Coomer made a contemplative noise, and Gordon could feel his temper rise. “No, seriously! All he did was fuck shit up! I don’t want to sit around and pretend to feel bad for him when he didn’t do anything good for us.”

“I think he was scared, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer said, voice level and uncharacteristically serious. “I think he was scared of you, specifically.”

“Why the fuck would he be scared of me? What?” He shook his head, “I just want him out of my dreams. I don’t know what’s going on with them, but it’s weird as hell and it’s freaking me out.”

“I don’t know if that’s something I can help you with. My expertise lies within the natural sciences, not oneirology! Although if you ever want to talk in more detail, I’m sure Bubby would be happy to have you over to our home! We can invite little Tommy as well, make a day out of it!” Gordon laughed, smiling at the idea of seeing the others again.

“Maybe. I’m not sure about the dream-sharing part, but it could be nice to see you guys again. It hasn’t even been that long, everything is just different now, you know?”

“You know what they say, Gordon! Bonds forged in hell last a _hell_ of a lot longer than any other!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that Dr. Coomer.” 

“Ah, well, the idea sticks!” Dr. Coomer paused, “You may be alone in body right now, Gordon, but not in spirit. As I’ve always said in times of stress, don’t fuck with the science team!” Gordon looked down, running his hand over his face.

“Thanks for the call, it was good to hear your voice.” It was almost strange how quickly he got attached to the Science Team, but at the same time, it didn’t surprise him at all.

“Anytime, Dr. Freeman!” Coomer laughed and went silent for a moment. “Goodbye, Gordon, I do hope you will call again.”

“I’ll be sure to. Goodbye, Dr. Coomer.” Gordon said, pausing for a moment before hanging up the phone.

What could Coomer have meant when he said Benrey was scared of him? It didn’t make any sense. The most Gordon had seen Benrey feel was maybe mild inconvenience. He hated how confused Benrey made him. Hated that after everything, he still saw him, still thought about him.

“Fuck!” Gordon ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the wall next to the phone. “Get out of my head you dick!”

His apartment walls didn’t answer. Maybe it would nice to see the others again, just so that he could get out of his home. The silence had been nice for a bit, but now it was too much.

Maybe he’ll take a nap.

+++

Gordon was back in that dark space from the last dream, but as he looked around, he couldn’t see Benrey for once. It was colder than before, cold enough to notice, and Gordon shivered. The whispers were gone, he noticed, and he could faintly hear the sound of fabric swishing in the darkness. The room was permeated by the heavy stench of rot, one that he’d grown familiar with in Black Mesa.

He took a step forwards, holding a hand out in front of him, and it met something solid. The thing was hanging, and it moved back with a soft creak. “What the fuck?” he whispered.

Gordon moved his hand forwards again, slowly, and when it touched the object again, he could feel fabric, and then something else beneath it.

“Is this… a body? What the hell?” He stumbled backward, and in doing so, his back met another hanging thing, startling him. “What the fuck is going on!” 

As if triggered by his voice, the dark space lit up, blinding Gordon momentarily, and as he blinked the white spots out of his eyes, he looked around at where he was. His stomach dropped, and bile rose in the back of his throat. Surrounding him, hanging by the tongues of barnacles were bodies. Scientists and soldiers alike, their eyes were dull and lifeless, face slack as they decayed. But as Gordon looked closer, eyes transfixed by the morbid scene around him, he could see bullet wounds and marks from weapons, rather than bites and scratches from aliens.

“Holy shit…” Gordon brought a hand up to his mouth and realized belatedly that it was shaking. “Oh my fucking God, what the fuck.”

These were the people they’d killed in Black Mesa. There were hundreds, hanging lowly, faces swollen and bloated as they swayed back and forth. Gordon’s throat tightened, and it started to feel harder to breathe. His whole body was shaking. Did these people have families? Children? He couldn’t breathe. It was so cold but everything was burning at the same time. How many of these people would never get to talk to their loved ones again because of him? He scratched at his throat, chest heaving. His eyes drifted up to the first man he bumped into, flying over the features of his face. The corpse’s hands were hanging limply down, and its features were blank, empty in a way Gordon recognized from the bodies littering the Black Mesa facility. Gordon could just barely see the glint of a wedding ring on its hand, and he lowered himself onto his knees, wrapping his arms around his chest. 

His chest felt like it was filled with concrete, and his lungs weren’t much better. His vision blurred at the edges as he knelt, struggling to get a breath out. His whole body was shaking, and objectively he knew he was most likely having a panic attack, but all he could focus on was the vacant expressions on the corpses’ faces, staring down at him.

“Oh God, we killed them… fuck, fuck, oh God, holy shit.” He bit his lip, feeling the skin break, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His breath was coming in short gasps, the closest he could get to full breaths. His gaze was glued to the corpses, watching them languidly sway above of him. It was so cold. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling something wet on his cheeks, and realized that he was crying. Even with his eyes closed, all he could see were the faces of the dead, their glassy eyes, wounds festering with rot. 

He thought he heard someone speaking next to him, but he couldn’t understand anything they were saying. His blood rushed in his ears, blocking everything out, and he tightened his grip around his stomach. The talking continued, a little closer to his ear than before, and he reached out wildly, grasping the person next to him. Their arm was warm, so different from the cold flesh of the corpses, and he gripped it as hard as he could. He vaguely registered a warm hand moving up to rest on his back, and his body shook. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, body tense as he struggled to breathe normally.

“Wake up, dude.” Somehow he understood what they were saying, cracking his eyes open from where they’d been glued shut. “Get out of here bro, you don’t wanna see this shit.” 

Gordon looked to the ground, averting his eyes from the forms above him. Everything felt like it was moving too fast and too slow at the same time, and he could feel his chest strain with the effort it took to breathe deeply. “I don’t… I don’t know how to wake up. _What the fuck._ ”

There was a moment of silence as if the other person was considering something, and then the voice scoffed, and the arm he was gripping moved as if the person was turning. “Aw, the baby can’t wake up? What a loser. C’mon dude it’s not that hard. You just think about waking up, loser.”

A jolt of anger cut through the panic as Gordon finally recognized who was next to him. He whipped his head around, focussing on Benrey’s face, deliberately ignoring the bodies behind him. “What the hell, why are you _here_?”

“Well, right now I’m helping this little bitch boy learn how to wake up from dreams because he’s dumb and can’t do it himself.” Gordon studied Benrey’s face, looking for any sense of deception, but all he could see was a tired look in his eyes.

“Benrey… are you trying to help me right now?”

The guard’s cheeks reddened and he averted his eyes from Gordon’s. “No, shut up. I just want you out of my space. No losers allowed man. You know how it is.”

Gordon huffed and realized that somehow Benrey had managed to help him get his breathing back to normal. “You are! What the fuck? Why?”

“I told you, I just want your bitch ass out of here. You’re messing with the vibes bro.” Gordon knew that he could argue with the other man, but he was too tired to try. And even when Benrey was being a dick, he still got the knot in Gordon’s chest to unwind.

“Whatever man. And as much as I hate to say it, thank you. You suck and I hate you, but like, thanks.” Gordon coughed, flexing his hand from the fist it’d been in previously. “I guess I should… like… try to wake up, right?”

“Yeah, please… I’m already tired of being around such a baby.” Gordon stilled, trying to focus on waking up as Benrey told him to. It took him a few seconds, but after a bit, he could feel the dream get less solid, less real. He looked over at Benrey, who was watching him, something almost jealous in his eyes.

“I sincerely hope I don’t see you in my dreams again, asshole,” Gordon said, only partially joking. Even if Benrey had helped him this once, he still couldn’t look past everything else he’d done.

“Whatever, bitch.” Benrey opened his mouth, looking like he was going to say something else, but Gordon was already gone.

+++

Gordon regained consciousness quickly, sitting up in his bed, chest heaving. For a second he thought he was fine, but a moment later he felt bile rise in his throat and he scrambled to the bathroom, getting to his toilet just in time to vomit up the meager contents of his stomach. 

“Oh fuck…” He sat back against the wall, flushing the toilet with one hand and rubbing his face with the other. He’d been fine in the dream while Benrey was there, but now that the distraction was gone all of the details from the dream were flooding back.

It was like his mind was stuck, replaying the corpses’ vacant stares on repeat, and the memory of the stench of decay rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind, making him gag. His hands were shaking from where they sat in his lap, and he clutched them together to make it stop. Gordon had been trying to ignore the fact that they’d killed so many people in Black Mesa, and he’d hoped that if he ignored it for long enough he would just forget about it, but evidently not. He could feel his throat grow tighter as he thought about it, and he knew that if he continued down that line of thinking he’d be thrown into another panic attack. 

He stood, walking over to the sink and washing out his mouth before leaving the bathroom. He needed to talk to someone, figure out how the hell the others were dealing with this because he knew that if he let this go on any longer he’d be consumed. Coomer was always a lottery of good and bad advice and Gordon wasn’t sure how helpful that’d be at the moment. Bubby was helpful in his own ways, but Gordon wasn’t sure how well he could aid him right now. Which left Tommy. Out of the four of them, he did seem to be relatively well adjusted, but at the same time, he didn’t want to burden him.

Gordon moved to the landline on the wall, picking it up and dialing Tommy’s number. It rang twice before being picked up, and Tommy’s voice came through the receiver, enthusiastic as ever.

“Mr. Freeman! How are you doing?” Gordon let out a small laugh, leaning against the wall.

“I’ve been better, I dunno. What about you, man?”

“Well, Sunkist is glad to be home, that’s for sure! I’m doing… okay, I guess. I miss you guys!” Tommy paused before speaking again. “Why’d you call me, Mr. Freeman?”

“Tommy, dude, just call me Gordon. Mr. Freeman sounds weird.” Gordon looked at the picture of Joshua on the fridge, thinking about what he’d say if he could see his dad right now. It was difficult, articulating what he wanted to say, but it was important. He knew that. “I just… I need to talk to you about… something. I don’t think I can talk about it over the phone though. Is there any way you can come over?”

“Oh! I think I can, I’ll have to make sure Sunkist is okay with being home alone though. Is everything okay Mr. Gordon?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just have to talk to someone and you’re the best choice right now.”

“Okay, if you’re sure! I’ll be over as soon as I can. See you then Mr. Gordon!”

“Don’t call me- actually, whatever, this might as well be happening. See you soon Tommy.” Gordon set the receiver back into the port, scrubbing a hand down his face. He looked around his apartment, checking to make sure it wasn’t too much of a mess, trying not to think about how he’d have to talk to Tommy in a short while about the things he’s been bottling up since the day of the test.

“Fuck… this is gonna suck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i definitely didn't expect the support i got on the last chapter and i'm !!!!!!!!!! aaaaaaa!! :-]]] i've been like. so happy because of it so thank you <3333 sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter,, this just felt like a more natural stopping point lol. chapter title from "Sorry, My Dear" by hobo johnson
> 
> summary of the parts mentioned in the TW: gordon takes a nap and has a dream in which he sees the bodies of the people the science team killed in black mesa, which triggers a panic attack. after benrey helps him wake up he vomits.
> 
> thanks again for reading! <333
> 
> come vibe with me on tumblr!! my main is @dxisychains and my hlvrai sideblog is @pogbenrey


	3. please slit my perfect throat with the knife that I gave you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> top 10 gordon tommy cuddle moments
> 
> TW: there's a panic attack, beginning at "Gordon could feel his breathing get heavier" and ending with "feeling Tommy’s other arm move around his back." i'll put a summary in the end notes <3

Tommy arrived about thirty minutes after the phone call with a chipper knock on Gordon’s door. Gordon had spent that half an hour pacing around his apartment, trying to plan out what he would say. It was so much easier to bottle up his problems, why’d he decide _talking_ to someone was a good idea? He had to remind himself that it was just Tommy, maybe the easiest person to talk to of his friends, and hope that he didn’t chicken out.

He’d also spent a good amount of time thinking over his dreams. They were… confusing, to say the least. Benrey’s behavior was probably the most perplexing. In the first two dreams, he’d been different than he usually was, more emotional in a way that made Gordon uncomfortable. It was weird, seeing the guard display distress like that. Gordon didn’t know what to make of it. He had no clue what his brain’s goal was, showing him Benrey like that, after everything. He didn’t think he held any subconscious sympathy for that asshole, but the dreams seemed to say differently.

And his last dream, that one was strange as well, although for different reasons. Gordon knew he had a lot of unaddressed trauma, and he’d been hoping to leave it that way. That dream though… Benrey’d been there again, for some reason, but he’d been acting like his old self again. The real confusion came from his actions. He helped Gordon come out of a panic attack and leave the dream, although it’d been under the flimsy excuse of Gordon messing up the vibe, or whatever bullshit the guard came up with. Gordon didn’t know what was to be gained in that situation. Dream Benrey was a figment of Gordon’s imagination, why was he there? Why was he helping him? Gordon had no clue. 

He was startled back to the present by Tommy’s arrival, standing from his seat on his threadbare couch and reluctantly approaching the door. Something akin to nerves sat low in his stomach, and he had no idea why. It was just talking to a friend, nothing that should make him nervous.

As soon as he opened the door Tommy spoke, bouncing on the balls of his feet in Gordon’s doorway. “Mr. Gordon! It’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you called me.” He paused, eyes looking Gordon up and down, and then flitting to the apartment. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit quieter. “Can I hug you? I missed you.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, sure, go ahead.” Gordon’d forgotten how nice Tommy’s hugs were, but as his arms wrapped around Gordon he relaxed into it, basking in the warmth of another person and the sense of security he felt. It’d been barely two days, but he’d missed being around other people, being able to be close to them. It was weird, considering that before everything he’d considered himself pretty reserved, not one for excessive contact with others. Now though, a simple hug was enough for his mood to improve.

Tommy pulled away a few seconds later, stuffing his hands into his pockets and stepping into Gordon’s apartment. “So, why did you call me? You said it was important, right?”

Gordon stepped to the side to let Tommy further into the hall, closing the door behind him. He walked towards the couch, letting Tommy follow him. He sat down in his previous seat, pulling his hair back into a ponytail from where it’d been hanging around his shoulders. 

“Right… yeah, okay. I don’t… _fuck_ this really shouldn’t be so hard.” Tommy looked over at him in concern, opening his mouth, and Gordon held up a hand, using the other to push up his glasses and rub at his eyes. “No, no it’s fine, I’ll get to it.”

“You really don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Mr. Gordon! We can just hang out here until you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Tommy, but I think if I keep putting this off I’ll never talk about it. I just…” He brought both of his hands up to his face, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s hard, y’ know? Telling people about like… trauma and shit.”

Tommy’s eyes were on him, Gordon knew, and he turned his head to meet his gaze. “How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?” 

“I dunno, _fucking_ everything I guess. All of the shit that, that happened at Black Mesa or whatever.” Tommy’s face softened, and he turned from where he was sitting to fully face Gordon.

“Mr.Gordon, it’s okay to feel bad about everything that happened! It fucking sucked, and the memories of those events, and the feelings those memories bring, aren’t gonna go away overnight, okay?” Gordon opened his mouth, but Tommy kept speaking. “It’s only been a couple of days, right? These are going to be the worst. Everything is going to feel bad for some time. I don’t think I’m going to be okay for a while. And I wouldn’t expect myself to be, just like I don’t expect you to be.”

“Tommy…” Gordon stared at the other man. He sometimes forgot that he wasn’t some kid, that he’d been through a lot and continued moving forwards. 

“It’s okay to feel bad, alright Mr. Gordon? I have Sunkist, who’s a great listener, and Mr. Doctor Coomer has Mr. Bubby, but you don’t have anyone right here to talk to. Just remember that we’re all here, and all willing to listen. Do you want to talk about it?” Tommy was looking directly at Gordon, and his sincerity was evident on his face. 

“Thanks, Tommy, that… that means a lot to me. I don’t know if I can talk about all of it yet, but,” Gordon sighed, sitting back up and wringing his hands together. “I guess I could tell you some of it if you’re willing to listen.”

“Go ahead, I’ll listen to you.” Tommy offered Gordon a small smile, which Gordon returned despite the growing pit of nerves in his stomach. Something about the dreams felt different, private in a way that was weird to talk about with someone else.

“I’ve been having these… dreams lately. Nightmares I guess. But they’re different, I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, formulating his words. He knew Tommy would listen, and knew that he’d wait if Gordon needed time, but he couldn’t let this sit any longer. “And Benrey’s been in all of them. Even when it doesn’t make fucking sense for him to be there.”

“The first dream was in Black Mesa. Which makes sense, y’ know? I’d just gotten home, obviously that hellhole is going to stick in my head. And I could reconcile Benrey being in that one if it wasn’t for how he was acting.” Tommy looked at Gordon inquisitively, and Gordon struggled to elaborate. “He was like… I dunno, he started asking me what I did to him and his face started to like… melt or something. It was fucking weird, even for Benrey.”

Tommy looked at the floor, deep in thought for a second, before looking back up at Gordon. “I guess that is sort of weird, Mr. Gordon. Do you think maybe that could have been your brain trying to humanize him in some way? Displaying someone or something in pain will usually result in an empathetic reaction, maybe you’re subconsciously guilty and trying to reconcile it?”

Gordon didn’t know why people kept asking him if he was guilty over Benrey’s death, because the idea was almost laughable. Even the thought of him made his heart beat faster, rage coloring his face. Gordon hated Benrey, he didn’t have any empathy for him whatsoever. “I don’t think that’s the case, Tommy, I don’t feel anything for Benrey but hatred. I don’t want to speak ill of a dead man, creature, whatever, but he fucking sucked.”

Tommy hummed, the sort of hum one makes when they’re not entirely convinced of something but are too nice to point it out. “If you’re absolutely sure, Mr. Gordon. You said he appeared in multiple dreams? What happened in those?”

Gordon elected to ignore Tommy’s disbelief, instead thinking back to his other dreams. “In the next dream, he was acting just as weird. He was all, I dunno, sad and shit, and he told me I ‘ _made him like this_ ’, whatever that means. I didn’t even know him before Black Mesa, how could I have made him like that?”

“Maybe he was talking about how you acted in the facility? There were some times where you were kind of mean to him, Mr. Gordon.”

“I mean, I guess, but he was sort of the worst. He also literally caused everything that happened. So I feel like it was a bit warranted. But it was just… really weird to see him displaying like, actual emotions, y’ know? And no matter how much I think about those dreams I can’t figure out why.” He sighed, falling back against the couch to look at the ceiling. “The last dream was the worst one.”

Tommy stayed silent, watching Gordon and giving him time to speak. Gordon turned his head to see the other man, eyes meeting Tommy’s. 

“We killed a lot of people, Tommy. I don’t…” He took a shuddering breath, looking back upwards. “How can I sit here and pretend that I’m getting better when I start spiraling any time something even reminds me of those people? How many of the people we killed had families? How many had sons like J- children like mine? I can’t live like this.”

Gordon could feel his breathing get heavier, and his vision started to blur at the edges as his thoughts tunneled back to his dream. He could see the people, see them swaying, and the man with the wedding ring was _right there, right in front of him, oh god_.

“Mr. Gordon, can I touch you, is that okay? You’re having a panic attack.” It took all of Gordon’s focus to nod, blindly reaching his hand towards Tommy. Warmth enveloped it, and Tommy pressed his hand against his chest. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to focus on my voice, alright? I’m going to move closer to you, and I want you to breathe with me, can you do that?”

Gordon barely registered Tommy’s chest rising and falling, but he tried to time his breaths with it. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Tommy patiently holding Gordon’s hand to his chest, the two of them breathing in tandem. Eventually, Gordon clawed his way out of the haze of panic, and he let his head fall forwards against Tommy’s chest, feeling Tommy’s other arm move around his back.

“Thanks man,” Gordon mumbled against the fabric of Tommy’s shirt. A wave of exhaustion rolled over him, and he straightened, moving the hand that wasn’t on Tommy’s chest up to his shoulder. “Tommy, I need your help.”

“What do you need, Mr. Gordon?”

“I need you to keep me from dreaming. I can’t keep going like this, man, I just need a night’s rest without seeing Benrey or whatever fucked up shit my mind conjures up.” He sighed, meeting Tommy’s gaze. “Please… I’m so tired.”

“I don’t… I’m not sure that’s… I mean, if you think that will help you, I guess we can try, right?” Gordon gave Tommy a thankful smile, and Tommy returned it with one of trepidation. A glance at the clock above his oven told Gordon it was still midday, but his fatigue was almost palpable.

“REM doesn’t start until like, an hour after you start sleeping, right? So just wake me up every hour or so and I should be fine.” Tommy still looked unsure, and Gordon tried to give him a reassuring look. “You can turn on whatever you want on the TV, and my computer is over in the kitchen if you get really bored. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled back at Gordon, moving his hand from Gordon’s back to rub at the nape of his neck. His fingers were tapping a small rhythm onto Gordon’s hand where it was still on his chest, and he looked around. “It’s really no problem Mr. Gordon! I just want to make sure you feel better. Do you want to go to your room, or stay here? Because we can stay like this if you want, I really don’t mind.”

Gordon thought for a second, remembering the comfortable warmth of Tommy’s hugs and the security they brought. “I, uh, stay here I think. I don’t wanna just strand you in my apartment while I sleep.”

Tommy seemed to understand what Gordon was trying to say, releasing his hand from his chest and leaning back against the couch rest, opening his arms for Gordon. “Alright, Mr. Gordon! See you in an hour!”

Gordon laughed, moving forwards and settling next to Tommy. He felt Tommy’s arms wrap around him, the warm feeling enough to lull him to a calm state, and his eyes closed quickly, sleep taking over just as fast. 

+++

Tommy woke Gordon a couple of times that he could remember, but they began to bleed together, stretches of blessedly dreamless sleep morphing into what felt like one long rest. He finally woke fully when Tommy shook him, whispering apologetically that it was getting late and that he had to make sure Sunkist was doing alright. The oven clock had displayed that it was just after midnight. Gordon’d reassured Tommy that it was alright, and they’d parted ways with the promise of meeting again and a hug.

Which brought Gordon to where he was now. He’d spent the past few days getting chores and errands done, replacing his groceries and cell. A hefty check had arrived in the mail from the corporation behind Black Mesa, and he’d been using the hush money for the aforementioned errands. Gordon had been avoiding sleeping when he could, taking short naps, or using his phone alarm to wake up after an hour and fall back asleep soon after.

The Science Team had been talking to each other quite a bit, arranging times to get together, and it was nice. He was comfortable. His exhaustion hadn’t disappeared, but it’d gotten a bit better with whatever sleep Gordon could get. Everything was getting easier, and he felt lighter than he had in those first couple of days. He had his phone call with Joshua, and listening to his son talk helped as well.

Basically, he was doing better, which was the most he could’ve asked for after everything. Of course, that meant that Murphy’s Law chose the best time to apply itself. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof this chapter was a difficult one. i... am honestly not super proud with it lol. but it is what it is, hope y'all enjoyed!! we love gordon and tommy friendship hehe.
> 
> TW SUMMARY: gordon has another panic attack as a result of the dream from last chapter, tommy helps him through it.
> 
> ALSO EVERYONE!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CHECK OUT [THIS INCREDIBLE ART](https://gordonfeetmn.tumblr.com/post/618055818627153920/hey-remember-that-crazy-dude-who-tried-to-kill-us) i'm absolutely ecstatic about this i love it so much!!!!!!!! if any of you ever make any content for this fic!! please send it to me on tumblr! i'm @dxisychains and @pogbenrey and if you send anything i'll love you forever omg


	4. when i told you "i love you" in my home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gordon makes a stupid mistake and we learn that he's always been an idiot.

Seven days. That’s how long Gordon went without dreaming. It’d been great, in the beginning at least, because he could go about his daily activities without feeling like he was going to collapse from exhaustion, but as the week dragged on he began feeling worse and worse. It was harder to get out of bed in the morning, deep tiredness settling in his bones, and he was clumsier, more careless. Eventually, something was going to have to give, and give it did.

It was a dumb mistake, simple in theory, and he wouldn’t have made it had he been a bit more lucid. He’d been getting ready to sleep, had everything ready, and forgot to set the alarm to wake him up in an hour. Looking back on it, it would have been easy to avoid if he hadn’t grown cocky in his triumph. He’d thought himself better than his own mind, believed himself to have bested the abstract idea of the nightmares, and in the end, it led to something bigger than he could’ve possibly imagined. But he didn’t beat his subconscious, and he forgot to set his alarm, and he dreamed. 

+++

Gordon was in his backyard. Not the empty lot out back of his apartment, but his childhood backyard. It wasn’t very large, not much more than a patch of grass surrounded by a decrepit fence, but the real wonder came from behind the aforementioned barrier. An expansive stretch of forest backed his house, and he’d spent many a day exploring the creeks and whatever in the woods. He hadn’t had many friends as a kid, never one for playing with others. He couldn’t remember much from that age, thinking back on it. He had some foggy memories of running around in the woods, and maybe there was someone else there, but he’d always been told he had a lot of imaginary friends as a kid.

As he stood, examining his surroundings, he heard rustling from behind the fence, followed by the shouting of children. He walked forwards, looking over the wood, and saw himself, just as he was as a kid, shaggy brown hair falling around his face and thick glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. Behind his younger self, though, was a kid he didn’t recognize. He was thin and pale and looked almost sickly. The boy had thick black hair that fell to just above his shoulders, and it was curly and tangled. He looked completely normal at first glance, but the longer Gordon looked at him the longer it felt like there was something off about him. He was… translucent, but not really. It was like Gordon’s eyes skipped over parts of him where the sun hit his skin.

The boy was familiar in a way Gordon couldn’t place, and the reedy strains of his voice that came wafting up from the bottom of the hill made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

The two boys were laughing, and Gordon’s younger self was chasing the other kid up the hill leading to the houses from the forest. They looked happy, incredibly so, and Gordon was left wondering who the other boy was because no matter how much he wracked his memory he couldn’t place the child’s face, despite its familiarity.

“Pay attention to this, dude.” A voice came from next to him, and Gordon jumped, looking over to see Benrey leaning onto the fence beside him. He looked exhausted, dark circles ringing his eyes, and he was staring intently at the children.

“What?” 

“This is important. Pay attention to what happens next.” Benrey glanced away from the kids, who’d found two sticks and were now play-fighting on the side of the hill. He looked Gordon in the eyes and nodded his head back towards the boys. “You wanted to know more, right? C’mon man, it’s not that hard to understand.”

“Benrey, what are we doing here? This is just some random memory-” Benrey shushed him, cutting Gordon off, and looking towards the kids, who’d finally reached the fence and were clambering over it.

The black-haired kid was laughing, and now that he was closer, Gordon could see that his arms were littered with light freckles. He looked like any other kid, but Gordon could have sworn that he’d seen that face before.

“Gordon, you loser! How are you gonna be big and strong when you grow up when you can barely handle a stick!” The kid’s voice was light and teasing, and he was walking towards Gordon’s house slowly while young-Gordon finished climbing over the fence.

“Shut up Ben! Your arms are like twigs, so you can’t talk!” Young Gordon was laughing as well, and a bit out of breath. His glasses were crooked but he didn’t seem to be inclined to fix them. Ben turned around, looking at Gordon’s younger self before walking over to him and fixing his glasses. “Ugh, Ben! Stop it! I can fix them myself! You don’t have to do it for me, you dork.”

Ben smiled, and there was a slight blush on his cheeks. “Oh yeah, if you’re able to do it yourself, then why are they always falling off your face? Just admit it- you’re too weak to fix your own glasses.” 

Young Gordon’s face reddened, and he punched the other boy’s arm. “I hate you! You’re such a jerk.”

“Nah, you like me. You wouldn’t be my friend if you didn’t, duh.” Ben laughed again, slinging an arm around Gordon’s shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get inside. It’s so hot out here, I’m gonna _die_.”

The other boy pushed Ben’s arm off, scoffing and walking forwards a bit. “You know how weird my mom is. You’ll have to wait until later if you want anything to drink because she caught me trying to sneak something out for you last time and yelled at me.” Ben’s arm dropped back down to his side, and Gordon watched his face fall with it as his younger self kept talking. “I think she’s on high alert right now. Just go back into the woods and do whatever and I’ll sneak out later.” 

Young Gordon turned back to Ben, oblivious to his change in mood, and shrugged helplessly, as if there was nothing he could do. Ben offered him a smile, but Gordon could see the difference between this and his last grin. This one was empty, and it looked more like a wince.

“Yeah… I get it. Don’t worry about it man, I’ll just… Hang out in the back until you’re ready.” He turned around and his shoulders shook, just once, and Gordon wanted to shake his younger self for being dumb enough to miss his friend’s obvious unhappiness. “See you later, Gordon.”

“Later, Ben!” And with that, the two boys parted.

Gordon turned, looking at Benrey, who was frowning and watching Ben scramble down the hill. The kid was periodically looking over his shoulder at Gordon’s house, and the disappointment on his face was obvious even as he got farther away.

“What was that? Why did I need to pay attention to that? I don’t even remember who that kid is! This doesn’t mean anything Benrey.” Gordon paused, watching Ben slowly walk into the forest. “My mind may have been putting you in my nightmares, that I get, but a random memory? Why are you here? You have no reason to be!”

Benrey laughed a hollow chuckle that made Gordon uncomfortable. He turned away from the fence, looking at the other man. “Oh my god, how do you still not understand? I can’t believe this, man, I knew you were dumb but seriously?”

“Hey, dude! I may have no idea what’s going on but you don’t need to be a dick about it!” Gordon hated how Benrey could get his blood to boil with a couple of words. He was infuriating and confusing, and Gordon was tired of it. “I just don’t understand why you’re showing up in some random memory from when I was younger.” 

“Whatever man, let’s just keep going.” And with that, Benrey started walking towards Gordon’s old house. Gordon sputtered, hurrying to catch up with the guard as he walked up the back steps. 

“We’re going inside?”

“Yeah, duh, c’mon loser.” Benrey grabbed Gordon’s arm, pulling him up to the backdoor and walking through the closed door. Gordon paused, confused, and Benrey’s head phased back through the door. “Dude, this is a dream, we aren’t confined by the laws of physics. Hurry up.”

“What the fuck?” Gordon looked at the door, and then tentatively stretched his hand out to touch it. Right when his fingers should have made contact with the wood they slipped through, and he stood for a few seconds looking at his hand before shrugging and entering the house. “This is so fucking weird.”

He looked at Benrey, who was standing quietly at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen, where voices could be heard.

“Benrey?” The guard looked at Gordon, putting a finger to his lips and turning back to the kitchen. Gordon walked forwards until he was next to Benrey, looking into the kitchen where his younger self was sitting at the table, talking to his mom.

“-and Ben and I were in the woods earlier, and he found this huge beetle! And then he picked it up and tried to put it on me which was like, super gross.” Young-Gordon had a glass of water in his hands, and his mom was watching him from where she was leaning on the counter, a look of concern on her face.

“Gordon… honey, don’t you think that you’re maybe… getting a bit old to have imaginary friends?” She chewed on her lip for a second, meeting Gordon’s eyes from where he’d looked up from his glass. 

“What? Mom, c’mon, you know that Ben isn’t imaginary! He can like, pick things up and write and do all of that stuff!” He furrowed his brow, frowning. “I don’t know why you hate him so much, he’s my best friend!”

“Honey, you need to get _actual_ friends. There are some perfectly nice children in the neighborhood, why don’t you hang out with them for a bit?” At this, young Gordon frowned even deeper, getting up from his seat and putting the glass in the sink.

“I’m going to go up to my room now. I’m tired.”

“Gordon, honey, you know I just want the best for you. Your father and I are worried.” Gordon’s younger self turned from where he was exiting the room, glaring at his mom.

“If you wanted the best for me, you’d actually like my best friend! He’s real, and I don’t know why you say he isn’t! I hate it! I can never hang out with him here because you just ignore him!” Young Gordon’s face was flushed, and his fists were balled at his sides.

“Honey, there’s nothing there! Every time you say that Ben is here you’re just talking to empty air! The neighbors are talking, and I don’t want you to grow up as the crazy kid!” Gordon’s mother sighed, and she looked towards Gordon. “I’m sorry for yelling, we just want to make sure that you’re okay honey, alright?”

Gordon’s dream self nodded from where he was standing, a shocked look on his face, and then slowly turned and walked away, heading up to his room, deep in thought. The actual Gordon turned to the man standing at his side and looked him over. Benrey seemed almost angry, fists clenched where he stood in the doorway. He was staring at Gordon’s mom, who was still in the kitchen.

He had an idea of what might be going on, reinforced by some of the things Benrey had said, and it made him feel sick. “Benrey, I don’t remember that conversation. I don’t remember any of this. What the hell is going on?” 

“Shut up, dude. It doesn’t even matter, right? Just some random memory or whatever.”

“No, you can’t just brush this off. You told me this was important, what the fuck did that mean?” Gordon was breathing heavily, staring at Benrey, who’d started walking back towards the backdoor. He jolted forwards, grabbing Benrey’s arm. “Dude, I’m serious. What is going on?”

Benrey whirled back around to face Gordon, eyebrows creased in anger and he opened his mouth before stopping, face falling back into a mask of calm. “I dunno bitch boy, why don’t you actually, like, try to find out instead of whining like the baby you are?”

Gordon stepped back, feeling rage rise in his veins, but forcing himself to disengage. Playing into Benrey’s game would never result in anything good, and he _really_ didn’t want to deal with his bullshit at the moment. “Fine. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself, or whatever it is you want. Just don’t be an ass about it, dude.” 

He pushed past the guard, walking to the door and putting a finger through to test it before closing his eyes and stepping all the way through the wood. He stumbled as he exited, looking down to see that he’d tripped on a tree root that definitely shouldn’t have been there. He whipped his head up, staring with wide eyes as he realized that he’d left his old house in mid-afternoon and arrived in the middle of the woods at dusk. 

There was a soft grey light filtering through the leaves, and the woods themselves were alight with noise. Birds were singing, loud and clear, and he could hear twigs snapping as animals moved around in the underbrush. Underneath those sounds, though, there was another, quieter noise. Gordon could feel a presence move next to him and turned to see Benrey step up beside him.

“Hear that?” The guard asked, staring straight ahead. He nodded, and Gordon followed his gaze to where Ben sat on a log, muttering to himself. His cheeks were splotchy, eyes rimmed with red, and Gordon could tell he’d been crying. The boy was fuzzier than he had been before, skin shifting around him, revealing patches of bone. Gordon told himself it was just because of the dream, but the sick feeling in the pit of his chest was growing.

The sound of branches snapping came from behind Gordon and Benrey, followed by creaking wood and a child’s voice.

“Ben? Where are you, dude? We gotta talk!” Gordon turned to see his younger self stumbling through the woods, one hand on his glasses and the other pushing away branches and undergrowth. He looked distressed, and if Gordon looked close enough he could see what looked like tears on his cheeks.

Ben sat up straight upon hearing dream Gordon’s voice, looking towards the origin of the sound, straight through the two older men. He scrubbed at his cheeks and stood, stepping forwards a bit. “I’m over here, Gordon.”

The kid’s voice was rough, scratchy and raw in a way that only intense sobbing could do. He forced out a small laugh, rubbing at his eyes. Gordon’s younger self scrambled through the last of the woods, coming to a stop at the edge of the clearing the other three stood in. He looked Ben up and down, frowning.

“Are you okay, man? You look like a mess.” Ben flushed at this, smoothing his crumpled shirt and sniffing.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter. What did you want to talk about?” Ben gave his friend a smile, albeit a small one, despite the concern in his eyes. His hand drifted up to rub at his elbow, and he averted his eyes from young Gordon’s. Gordon looked over at his younger self, who was watching Ben intently and saw his face drop as the other boy mentioned talking. 

“I… Ben, I’m your best friend, right?” At the other boy’s nod, young Gordon let out a shaky breath, wringing his hands together. “We can’t do this anymore.”

Ben opened his mouth, confusion falling across his face. He walked towards Gordon’s younger self, who took a step back. “What? What do you mean, dude?”

The other boy stared at Ben, eyes watery. He was silent for a moment, but Gordon could tell when he resigned himself to whatever he was about to do. He stood up straighter, balling his fists and looking at the ground near Ben’s feet.

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” 

Ben stood quietly for a second, but then the other’s words seemed to hit and he took a step back. Gordon felt his stomach drop, looking over to Benrey, who was seemingly transfixed by the scene before them. Ben laughed nervously. “Gordon, what? Dude, you aren’t making sense. It sounded like you just said we shouldn’t be friends anymore, but I just heard you wrong, right?”

The other boy was silent, and a hurt expression fell across Ben’s face. “Right? You aren’t just gonna ignore me, are you?”

“Ben… please. I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” Gordon’s younger self was shaking, and Gordon could see that he was willing himself not to cry. “Just go away. I don’t like you anymore.”

“No, Gordon, c’mon, this is just a joke. You’re- you’re just kidding, you wouldn’t do this to me.” Ben was breathing heavily now, stepping towards young Gordon. There was a moment of silence, and it seemed that even the animals in the forest had stopped moving to listen to the two boys. Ben let out a nervous laugh, eyes darting back and forth as if he was looking for something to explain what was happening. 

“Gordon, you’re my best friend, dude, you like me, you want to be my friend. You just told me that earlier!”

Young Gordon muttered something, angling his head away from Ben, and the other boy stumbled forwards, hands outstretched to Gordon. His arms were flickering even more than before, bone exposed to the air, and the spasms were beginning to climb up his neck.

“What did you say?” Ben asked.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me! What did you say?” Ben’s voice was choked, and he grabbed Gordon’s wrist. The kid wrenched his arm back, pushing Ben’s chest with his other hand.

“I said that I never liked you! That earlier today you were the one who said I liked you. I don’t! I never have!”

Ben looked shocked, standing frozen as Gordon’s dream self spoke, and the spasms of translucency sped across his body. When he spoke again, his voice was small, barely audible. “... what?”

“I hate you! You just showed up one day and started talking to me like we were friends and I went along with it because I didn’t want to be mean, but I hate you! You’re annoying, and I don’t want to be your best friend anymore!” Tears had started to fall freely down both boys’ faces, and Gordon’s younger self was approaching sobs as he yelled. In contrast, the tears were falling from Ben’s face quickly, and he didn’t acknowledge them, instead staring at his ex-friend. “You’re so annoying, and I just want you to leave!!”

“Gordon, bro, you don’t… you don’t mean that. I know you, you’re lying.” Ben was almost pleading, holding his hands up, palms out.

“Go away, Ben. Leave me alone.” Ben sputtered in protest, and Gordon’s younger self was breathing heavily. Present Gordon was frozen where he stood, watching the scene, and he closed his eyes for a second, knowing what was going to come next. He could barely remember this fight, but he knew, in a deep part of his memory that’d only now returned, what was going to happen.

“Get out of here Benrey!” Gordon’s stomach dropped, and his eyes flew to the man next to him, whose gaze was fixed on the scene before them. Gordon’s younger self’s face was red with anger, and he hastily wiped away a few tears. Ben, Benrey, Gordon’s brain reminded him, was standing still, staring at the other boy with a look of pain on his face, making no move to wipe away the tears flowing freely down his face. He straightened, a cold expression falling across his face. All emotion had been wiped from his gaze, and the only indication that he’d been in distress came from the tears on his cheeks.

“Whatever dude. You don’t want me around? Fine. I’ll leave.” The boy turned, stepping over a branch, almost careless in his apparent apathy. He looked over his shoulder to where kid Gordon stood still, unmoving other than the rise and fall of his chest. “See you around, Gordon.”

As Ben disappeared into the dark forest, Gordon’s younger self began to sob. Gut-wrenching, heaving cries as he lowered himself to his knees, bent over at his waist. He was gasping for air, glasses crooked on his face, and Gordon felt like his breath had been stolen from his lungs. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he slowly turned to Benrey, whose eyebrows were furrowed as he watched Gordon’s younger self cry.

“I’d always wondered what happened after I left. I didn’t expect that.” He turned to Gordon, an empty smile on his face. “So? Does it make sense now, loser?”

“Cut the shit, Benrey. What the _hell_?” Gordon tried to push down his anger, but it rose once more. “I don’t… You were- _you_ were Ben? I can’t fucking believe this.”

He brought his hands up to his face, scrubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. “I didn’t remember until now, okay? I didn’t remember Ben, or you I guess, until now, but what the fuck?”

Gordon paused as a thought hit him, and he looked at Benrey, who was watching him silently. “All of the shit you did, everything at Black Mesa, was that just because of a fight we had when we were kids? Seriously? Are you that fucking… that fucking _petty_?” 

“I mean, I guess. There were other reasons too, but like, that shit hurt dude.” A bolt of rage rushed through Gordon’s veins, and he clenched his hands into fists to keep from hitting Benrey.

“Would it kill you to actually hold a conversation like a civil person? Are you _fucking_ serious? You tried to fucking kill us! I can’t believe you, you asshole! No wonder I could barely stand to be around you, even as a kid. I knew you were crazy, but what the hell?” Gordon hissed, allowing himself to give in to his rage.

Anger flew across Benrey’s face for a moment, and he stepped closer to Gordon, meeting his eyes. His brow was furrowed, and his glare was sharp. He almost looked like something to fear, and maybe Gordon would be scared if he wasn’t so mad.

“Don’t say that.” Benrey’s voice was low, and he said it with a warning note to his speech. “Don’t pretend that you knew what it felt like to have your only _fucking_ friend tell you he hated you.”

“Why me? Huh? Why was I the one you decided to latch onto? You’re like a fucking leech, I swear!” Benrey’s face darkened, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get his point out. Finally, he seemed to collect himself, and his next words were bordering on a shout, something Gordon didn’t expect. 

“It was always you! I had no choice! Do you think I would have chosen to grow up with you?” He was breathing quickly now, hands tightening at his side where they were wrapped in fists. “You’ve always been there, alright? You’re the only _fucking_ thing keeping me here, and it infuriates me! Dude, I never asked for this.” 

“So yeah, I was pretty _fucking_ pissed at Black Mesa! What if you had to grow up without being seen by anyone, okay man? What if you had to go through life knowing that the only person who could ever comprehend what you were hated you?” Gordon stared at Benrey, whose face was flushed with anger. 

The guard paused and seemingly realized what he said, expression shuttering back into his signature smug smile, although Gordon knew how flimsy that mask was. He straightened, looking away from Gordon. “But it’s whatever, right? It’s over now. You can sleep easy knowing that I’m fucking dead or whatever. I’m nothing to you bro, I get that. You can wake up, go about your life, and I’ll stay here.”

Gordon frowned, opening his mouth, but paused when he looked at Benrey, who was losing definition. He was fuzzy, translucent, and Gordon could see the trees behind him. “Benrey, what the fuck are you doing? You can’t just phase your way out of a fucking argument!”

The guard stared at Gordon in confusion, before moving his gaze to his hands. “I don’t… I don’t know, dude. This isn’t me. What the fuck...”

Benrey looked up at Gordon, mask cracking as panic spread across his face. He was almost completely gone now, and Gordon lurched forwards, reaching out for him, but by the time he got his fingers around the guard’s wrist, he’d disappeared, the only thing left of him his voice saying Gordon’s name, tinted by fear. 

And Gordon was standing in the forest he and Benrey used to love, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aa that one hurt to write lol. this marks the end of the first part of this fic! we still have a long way to go but hey, we got this far, right? comments/kudos are really appreciated but either way, thank y'all so much for the traction ur giving this!! i'm like. ecstatic lol. (also i can finally add the childhood friends tag!! fuck yeah)
> 
> follow me on tumblr <3 @dxisychains or @pogbenrey
> 
> chapter title from "Sorry, My Dear" by Hobo Johnson


	5. just stab me in the back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes dreams are bad
> 
> TW: Graphic depictions of someone bleeding out, graphic depictions of being shot, check the endnotes for a summary. to skip those parts, don't read from "It was Benrey, of course..." to "He stayed there, trapped in his own body..."

The forest was silent, and Gordon stood frozen, arm outstretched for the space Benrey’s arm had previously occupied. The air was dead, heavy with the events that had just transpired, and even the animals seemed to have paused. Gordon’s arm dropped, and he turned in a circle, looking around wildly. 

“Benrey? Dude, c’mon, this isn’t funny, you asshole. I need to _fucking_ talk to you.” He continued to rake his gaze over the forest around him, and his eyes fell to his younger self, who’d stopped crying sometime during his fight with Benrey. The boy was staring blankly at the ground in front of him, tears shining on his face. 

Gordon took an unconscious step forwards, looking at the kid before him, and a twig snapped beneath his feet. His younger self’s head jolted upwards, and he turned around. 

“Benr-” The child’s eyes met Gordon’s, and he frowned, dragging himself to stand, eyes skating over the man. “Huh...You’re… you’re me, aren’t you?”

A few seconds passed as Gordon absorbed the fact that he was being addressed by his younger self. It was surreal to see a face he knew from pictures and memories mirrored in front of him, speaking to him directly. He remembered to answer after a beat, eyes wide as he looked at the boy in front of him.

“I, uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m you.” 

“Oh… okay.” Young Gordon replied. Gordon shifted uncomfortably, watching his dream self wipe at his eyes and saw his brow furrow as he met Gordon’s gaze once more. His face was open, pleading, as he stepped towards the other.

“Do we… Do we ever get him back?”

Gordon’s stomach plummeted, and he averted his eyes from the child before him. He brought his hand up to his face, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes as he attempted to think of something to say.

“Oh.” 

A fresh wave of tears slowly slid down the boy’s cheeks, and he scrubbed at them half-heartedly. A shuddering breath wracked his frame, and Gordon hoped he wouldn’t start sobbing again. Gordon’s younger self dropped his hand, toeing the dirt with his shoe. When he spoke again his voice was small. “I don’t want to lose him again.”

“He’s not- not the same, Gordon.”

“I don’t care!” His chest was heaving, tears falling faster than before. “I don’t- don’t want him to hate me! I said I hated him, but I don’t and now he’s gone and I want him back!”

“He’s… he’s a bad guy now. He’s hurt a lot of- hurt a lot of people.” Gordon’s younger self squared his shoulders, balled fists tensing, and Gordon was reminded of how stubborn he was as a child. “I know you think that he’s still your friend, but-”

“I told you that I don’t care! I hate it when grown-ups tell me that I’m wrong! You do it and Mom does it and everyone talks to me like I don’t know anything! But I do know things! I know him! I don’t care if he’s bad now, he’s my best friend!” A choked sob interrupted younger Gordon’s rant, and he squeezed his eyes shut, futilely rubbing at the tears on his face with white-knuckled fists. He stilled, and lowered his hands slowly, red-rimmed eyes raising to meet Gordon’s. He looked devastated, cheeks splotchy and red, and his glasses had been knocked askew by his fists, although he made no move to fix them. His voice was barely a whisper. “Does he hate us now?” 

Gordon didn’t know how to answer that and in his silence his younger self seemed to find a response, turning his back to Gordon, shoulders shaking. Gordon stepped forwards, carefully extending his hand to rest on his younger self’s shoulder. “It’s… it’s okay to feel bad about it. He was your- our best friend, right?”

“I didn’t mean to make him upset!” A sob cut young Gordon off, and he heaved a wet, shuddering breath. “I just didn’t want… didn’t want to make my mom mad anymore and I took it out on him and I-”

The boy stopped abruptly, breath quickening, and he turned, throwing his arms around Gordon’s torso, tears dampening his shirt. “I’m sorry that I messed everything up for us.”

Gordon relaxed into the embrace, settling his hand on his younger self’s shoulder. He brought his other arm around, pulling the boy against him, and smiled sadly. 

“It’s okay... I forgive you.”

Gordon’s kid self raised his head, tears sparkling on his face, and gave Gordon a shaky smile, before sobbing once more and burying his head back into his chest. His hands tightened where they were gripping Gordon’s shirt, and he mumbled apologies into the fabric. Gordon got the feeling that he wasn’t apologizing solely to his older counterpart. He brought his hand up to smooth the kid’s hair, trying to soothe him the best he could. He had some experience with Joshua, but it was still strange- especially considering that it was some version of himself as a kid.

The boy’s cries petered off eventually, and he stood back, smiling crookedly at Gordon. His face was splotchy, and tears lingered on his cheeks, but he looked better than he had. The forest was getting darker, the scenery disappearing into nothingness, and finally, all that was left were Gordon and his younger self. Young Gordon reached up, fixing his glasses, and raised his hand in a tentative wave.

“Thank you.” 

And then the inky black consumed him as well.

+++

The darkness cleared from his vision as soon as it arrived, and Gordon squinted against the harsh change in lighting. He was standing in one of Black Mesa’s decrepit halls, and the dim fluorescent lights were blinding compared to the dusk of the forest he’d been in. A quick glance behind him confirmed that he’d appeared at a dead end, with nothing of interest. There was blood splattered across the floors and walls of the hall, but other than that it was entirely devoid of anything. There were no corpses, no aliens, just silence. 

He took a tentative step forwards, eyes fixed warily on the end of the hallway. As he slowly approached he could see that it turned a corner, and he reached to his hip for his pistol out of habit, before remembering belatedly that he didn’t have any of his gear from Black Mesa. He halted, catching a sound from around the bend, and listened quietly. The walkway was silent for a second, but then he heard a quiet shuffle, followed by a hiss of pain. Shortly after, Gordon caught a curse, then the sound of heavy, labored breathing and a hoarse shout muffled by clenched teeth. Whoever was around that bend was either playing a very convincing trick on him, or they were in agony. 

Finally, he reached the end of the hall, and he paused, listening to see if he could hear any signs of danger, but all he heard was ragged breathing, interspersed by wet, hacking coughs. He was sure that the person around the corner was at the edge of death, or at least horribly injured, and some sick part of his brain urged him to just wait it out, let them die. He shook off those thoughts, pressing close to the wall, as he peeked around the corner. He couldn’t see much, but there was a person slumped against the doorframe of another hall that bisected the one Gordon was in. They were shaking, hands pressed to their stomach, and blood coated their torso. 

Gordon knew that revealing himself was a bad idea. He had no clue if the person would be hostile or not, and he had no way of defending himself. Even still, the pitiful noises escaping their mouth were enough to soften his resolve and some part of him was insistent that at the very least this person should not die alone. He stepped out from behind the wall, walking fully into the hall, and the person looked up from where they sat, stopping him in his tracks.

It was Benrey, of course it was Benrey.

The coppery tang of blood hit Gordon’s nose, and his eyes fell to Benrey’s stomach, where his hands lay. There was a gaping wound carved into his gut, and the guard was futilely attempting to hold it shut, despite his obvious fatigue and pain. Gordon’s gaze was fixed on the wound, and he could see the muscles in Benrey’s chest rapidly expanding with his labored breathing. It looked absolutely excruciating, dark globules of blood dripping from the gash and through Benrey’s hands. The man’s fingers tightened as his body rocked with a spasm and the gore gushed quicker, spurting outwards and coating the ground around him. That same twisted part of Gordon’s brain that had told him to let Benrey die pointed out that one could see Benrey’s intestines through the wound and bile rose in the back of Gordon’s throat. 

His gaze drifted up to Benrey’s face, eyes wide, and he winced, phantom pain running through his body at the thought of being in the guard’s position. The aforementioned man’s normally docile expression was twisted in a grimace of pain, teeth bared as he struggled to close the wound. His mouth was coated with blood, red splattered across his teeth and down his chin. Thin rivers were cut through the grime on his cheeks, likely from tears of pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them to stare directly at Gordon. Another hacking cough wracked his frame, and a thin string of gore flew from his mouth to join the puddle on the floor around him. He mouthed something at Gordon, his voice barely audible, and the other man barely caught the end to his wheezing statement.

Gordon stumbled forwards, Benrey’s name catching in the back of his throat. He could feel the cool burn of anger in the back of his chest, but it was dampened by the steady thrum of worry seeing him in this state caused. Somehow, after everything, there was a small part of him that felt some lingering bit of empathy for the bastard, and it was in the driver’s seat now. He slid to a halt in front of the other man, dropping to his knees so that he could get close enough to understand him. His hands hovered over the wound, unsure of what to do.

“Fuck, _fuck_! Benrey, what the hell?” His breath quickened, voice raising in volume. “First you drop a fucking bombshell on me, disappear in the middle of an argument, and now you’re fucking dying? Dude, what the _fuck_ , holy shit, oh god-”

“Feetman… bitch… shut up, please…” Benrey’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as he spoke rivulets of blood flooded from his mouth, dripping onto his clothes as well as Gordon’s shirt. The man coughed, wet and choked, and a warm gush of blood hit Gordon’s hands. “Need… need to talk.”

A panicked laugh shook Gordon’s frame, bordering on hysterical, and he felt Benrey tense beneath him. This felt too real, Benrey felt too real, and it was so much easier for him to die when he was actively trying to kill Gordon. Now, it felt like he was losing someone important, falling short from grasping something just before it disappeared forever. Every cell in his body was tense, and he had to remind himself that this was just a dream. 

“Benrey- Benrey you can’t talk, you gotta… gotta save your strength right? C’mon dude.” Gordon reached up to pat Benrey’s cheek where his head had fallen to the side, exhaustion and pain making his eyes unfocused. “C’mon, stay awake for me man.”

Benrey looked up at him, working his mouth around unspoken words, and the skin around his eyes tightened as his body shuddered again. His pupils were dilated, and he looked, more than anything, resigned. “No… important.”

Gordon could feel a sob building in the back of his throat. Every time Benrey spoke blood flooded from the wound on his abdomen, and Gordon felt the guard’s body tensing with the effort it took to form words. Benrey shifted, groaning in pain, and his hand slowly moved up to rest on Gordon’s neck, which seemed to be as far as he could get it. His palm was sticky with blood and cold in a way it wasn’t usually. Gordon forced himself to stop considering the implications.

“What-” A dry sob cut through Gordon’s sentence, and he choked for a second, pressing closer to the dying man in front of him. “What do you need to say, Benrey?”

“Gordon…” Gordon closed his eyes, pushing a breath through his nose. The blood escaping from the wound was slowing, and Gordon knew that Benrey didn’t have much longer. The other man coughed, a great hacking thing that would have moved his entire upper body had Gordon not been holding him still. A clot of blood splattered onto Gordon’s glasses, tinting the vision from his left eye red. He couldn’t bring himself to wipe it away. “Gordon. I… l- love you… idiot-”

The guard paused, coughing once more, and Gordon’s heart was pounding. He opened his mouth to speak, and Benrey clumsily put his hand over Gordon’s mouth, smearing blood across his lips. The guard grit his teeth, agony spreading across his face, and his hand fell limply into his lap.

“Always… always you…” Benrey attempted a small laugh, and it twisted into a fit of heavy coughing, blood flying onto Gordon’s face. He fell back against the wall, face white, and met Gordon’s gaze again, eyes dull. “Loser…”

Gordon sat silently for a second, frozen, before jolting into action, pressing even closer to Benrey than before. He frantically patted at the other man’s cheek, bringing his face close to the other’s. His breath was heavy in his chest, wet with tears. “Fuck, _shit_! Benrey, dude, c’mon! _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Benrey, please… answer me please, oh fuck.”

Benrey’s eyes were empty, glassy and unfocused. Gordon could feel the blood flow from his stomach stop, halting as the last of the man’s life drained from his body, and his breath stuttered. He didn’t even know why he was so distraught over this, they’d killed Benrey once before, and he could still feel that ever-present burn of anger at the thought of him, but something about this time was different. He’d been so human here, and Gordon could feel grief locking his limbs. He grabbed at Benrey’s wrist in desperation, searching for any type of pulse, but it was as dull and lifeless as the rest of his body. 

He was so cold.

+++

Gordon didn’t know how much time passed, him hunched over Benrey’s lifeless form, struggling not to cry, but he was shocked out of his stupor by the icy feeling of a gun barrel against the base of his neck and the click of the safety being turned off. A child’s voice sounded from behind him, cold and smug, and infuriatingly familiar.

“Turn around, _loser_ , we want to see you when we kill you.” Gordon turned slowly, hands shaking, and his heart dropped when he realized why he recognized the voice. Benrey, the young Benrey from his memories, was standing before him, pistol aimed directly at his face. The child’s expression was aloof, nonchalant in a way that was incredibly discomfiting on a child’s face regularly, and deeply unsettling when he had a gun in hand. 

His eyes were cold, and his soft smile was taunting. The boy’s hand was steady on the gun, and he made no show of posturing, electing instead to stand calmly and watch Gordon. He must have seen the confusion on Gordon’s face because he smiled, sweet and innocent, and yet somehow entirely too malicious for his young face. “An eye for an eye, right, Gordon?” 

“You killed us, so we should get to kill you, right?” He motioned to a spot behind Gordon with the gun, tipping his head to the side. Gordon glanced at where he motioned, eyes falling onto the corpse’s blank face. His eyes stared directly into Gordon’s, almost accusingly. Gordon swiveled back towards young Benrey, heart in his throat.

“You don’t have to do this, Benrey.” At this, the child laughed, a dull laugh that felt as dead as the man behind Gordon.

“We don’t have to do this? Really? So we get a choice now when you’re the one in danger, but not when you were destroying our _fucking_ life?” His composure began to crack, skin sloughing off of his hands to reveal the bone beneath. The boy’s eyes were cold, methodical in their judgment of Gordon. “You’re a selfish man who only cares for his own life. We had _nothing_! We were _nothing_ without you! You abandoned us! So now we’re going to kill you, and you don’t get to complain, because you won’t have a choice, just like us.”

The gun was leveled to Gordon’s eyes, and the boy’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Any last words, Gordon?”

“Benrey, I’m so sor-” The gunshot was deafening. Gordon could feel the bullet tear through the skin of his skull, shatter his eye socket. He felt it rip through his brain, and it was excruciating. Objectively, he knew that he shouldn’t be aware of anything right now, as he should be dead from the initial shot, but instead he was agonizingly aware of each millimeter the bullet moved as it entered his head. It tore through muscle and bone alike, boring down into his head, and he thought distantly that he could hear himself screaming. Every cell in his body felt like it was being torn to shreds, spiraling outwards from the entrance point on his left temple. 

When reprieve finally came, it was barely noticeable through the haze in Gordon’s mind. He could feel his body slump to the floor, lifeless atop Benrey’s corpse, and it was like he was disconnected from himself. Red edged on the side of his vision, and the pain only dulled a bit, before flaring in a spike that made him want to scream, but he couldn’t move a muscle. He stayed there, trapped in his own body, for what felt like an eternity, pain streaming through his body, before his vision faded out to black and he returned to unconsciousness. 

+++

Gordon shot up in his bed, clenching a hand to his left temple, where a splitting headache was emanating. He curled his knees up against his chest, gritting his teeth against the pain, and stayed like that until it faded. He felt exhausted, drained in a way he’d only really ever felt after leaving Black Mesa. Something about the events of his dream had sapped all of the energy out of him, and he gasped to catch his breath.

God, the dream. So much had happened, he didn’t even know where to begin unpacking it. He wanted to think that the memories he saw weren’t real, were some sick trick his mind decided to play on him, but something within him knew, with deep certainty, that those things had happened. That Benrey hadn’t been lying when he claimed they used to be friends in Black Mesa. He thought about the way he’d tried to push Benrey away, how Benrey reacted, and he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He’d had no clue how much he’d changed Benrey, but comparing him to his younger self, it was so easy to see how empty the guard’s persona was. 

Benrey had said some things that stuck with him, though, in the fight afterward. He claimed that Gordon was the only one to see him or something along those lines, and when Gordon actually considered it without the overwhelming haze of anger from the fight, he knew that Benrey was to some extent justified in his upset. It didn’t excuse all of his actions from Black Mesa, but when Gordon observed it with a level head, a bigger picture began to shape. It was incredibly frustrating to him that he couldn’t just confront Benrey about it, but he knew that the Benrey he kept seeing in his dreams was just some strange conduit his mind was using to manifest his guilt. 

“Ugh… I fucking hate this.” He ran a hand over his face, talking to the empty walls of his room. “I don’t… can’t consider the implications of the second part of that dream right now, because I think I’d break down if I did.” 

There was no answer from the beige walls around him, and Gordon stood from his bed, shaking his head at himself and shuffling over to his door. It was still late, but he needed to do something, or he’d start spiraling.

As he reached for the handle of his door, there was a crash from his kitchen, followed by a few muffled curses. He paused, hand lingering above the handle, and tried to keep paranoia from getting the best of him. His eyes scanned his room, looking for something he could use as a weapon. There wasn’t anything immediately near him, so he settled for hoping he could just catch whoever was in his apartment off guard.

Gordon opened his bedroom door, as carefully as possible, stepping out into the living room cautiously. The light above his oven was on, as he usually left it while he slept, and he could just barely see the silhouette of someone leaning heavily on the counter. He moved forwards, attempting stealth, but he must not have been entirely successful, as the figure’s head slowly moved up to look at him, although they seemed disoriented. 

He stood frozen for a second, and almost thought that he was in the clear, but then they struggled to stand up straight, putting more weight on their shaking arms. They raised their face, and a stripe of light hit their eyes, refracting in a way that Gordon had only seen on one person. His stomach dropped, despair and fear mixing with a dark, burning bolt of rage, and his fists clenched involuntarily.

“Benrey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hkgfdjsgd aa i love all of you guys sm thank you all for the support for this fic!! i'm so glad that people are enjoying it. first order of business!! augh i keep getting fanart and it's all fucking incredible!!! please please please contact me if you make fanart of this i adore every drawing i get. you can find me on tumblr or twitter!! i'm @dxisychains or @pogbenrey on tumblr, and @fernfuneral on twit!!
> 
> TW Summary: Gordon dreams about finding Benrey bleeding out in Black Mesa, Benrey confesses his feelings for Gordon and dies, Gordon is then shot and killed by Benrey's younger self.
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed!! <3


	6. and twist it with the anger of every single time i made you mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gordon is very good at hurting people's feelings once more.

“Benrey.”

The guard froze from where he’d been swaying slightly, struggling to keep his weight. He didn’t seem to have expected Gordon to address him first, and the air was silent for a moment, charged and tense. Finally, Benrey spoke, voice weak and quiet.

“Nice… uh… nice kitchen, Feetman.” He paused, leaning heavily on his arms. “Kinda shitty, but not everyone can be epic, I get it.” 

Gordon shifted where he stood, clenching his fists and trying to remain calm. After everything that happened, Benrey showing up in his home and pretending that nothing was wrong absolutely infuriated him. “What the fuck are you doing in my apartment, Benrey?”

“Vibing, duh, idiot.”

“Oh my fucking god, can you not take anything seriously?” He stepped forwards, walking further into the room and maneuvering around his sofa. “You can’t attempt to murder me and all of my friends and then show up to expect everything to be fine! I thought you were dead!”

Benrey’s shoulders tensed, and he took a step back. There was a brief stretch of silence before he answered. “Well maybe if- maybe if you hadn’t had that fuckin’ dick slip-”

“Are you really back on that bullshit excuse? I’m tired of it! I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a _fucking_ week, more if you count the time we spent in Black Mesa, and you’re supposed to be dead!” Benrey was quiet, eyes avoiding Gordon’s, and Gordon stalked closer, rage boiling in his veins. “I’d maybe be fine if you- you’d stayed in my dreams because they aren’t real! But no, you’re here now, apparently.”

His voice was steadily growing louder, approaching a shout, and he hoped that his walls were thick enough to drown out the noise for his neighbors. A visit from any of them was the last thing he needed right now. “And the fucking- the dreams! Was that you? Were you, like, using your weird-ass alien powers to give me nightmares out of spite or something? What the fuck dude!”

“Nightmares?” The other man straightened, the light from the stove illuminating the outline of his form. His voice was shaky from a mix of exhaustion and what could almost be nerves, but Gordon had a hard time believing it was sincere. “What nightmares?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know, asshole. Y’know, the fucking… the dreams with the like… corpses… and shit.” Benrey was completely still, and Gordon could barely hear him breathing. “You were there, you were in them! I’m not fucking insane, dude, I didn’t make them up.”

Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to Gordon that the dreams could have been just that, dreams, until that moment. Benrey’s appearance in his home correlated too perfectly, made too much sense for it to be unrelated. But it was always possible that he was just making connections where there was none. That bit of doubt stole the wind from his sails, and he paused, voice quieting. “I know that you have, like, freaky reality-bending powers, man, there’s no way those dreams were my imagination. C’mon, don’t fucking lie.” 

“Hey, Feetman, you uh… you okay, bro?” The guard paused, shifting where he stood. “I don’t remember any dreams, dude. You’re being kinda... kinda cringe right now though. No reason to be rude.”

Gordon was barely listening, thoughts racing. He couldn’t have made it up, right? Those dreams, especially the last one, weren’t normal. There’s no way he could’ve made them up. His mind spun with questions, and he planted his hand on the top of his sofa, bracing himself. Had he just imagined it all? He had no way to tell what was real from those dreams and what wasn’t. But he remembered things, remembered knowing Benrey, so what did it mean? His heart pounded in his chest, and he realized belatedly that he’d been standing silently, lost in his paranoia.

“Uh... Dude?” Benrey’s voice was tentative and he sounded uncomfortable, leaning stiffly against Gordon’s counter. Gordon couldn’t look at him, hand tightening around the top of the sofa. He needed to be alone, needed Benrey out of his apartment. The idea of him standing there, watching Gordon fall apart when Gordon couldn’t even be sure if the other man was real or not made bile rise in the back of his throat, panic gripping him. 

“Get out of my house, Benrey.” Gordon could barely hear his own voice, but he could tell it was flat, strangled. 

“Huh?”

“Leave! I don’t give- give a shit where you go, just get out of my _fucking_ house!” Gordon took a shuddering breath, wiping his hand down his face. “I’m tired of you! I want you out of my life, for _fucking good_ this time. I’m probably hallucinating you at this point, probably going insane, but I don’t give a shit! Get the fuck out of my house, and get the fuck out of my life!”

He felt off-kilter, like he could collapse at any given moment, and Gordon watched Benrey stand taller, turning towards him. “Wha-”

The guard stared at Gordon, and something on his face must’ve given Benrey pause, drying up his words. Gordon could see his eyes glinting in the darkness of his apartment, despite the shadows obscuring Benrey’s face. He was suddenly struck by the thought that whatever was standing across from him, be it Benrey or something else, wasn’t human. The fragile facade of humanity had shredded itself to pieces in Black Mesa, and Gordon knew, with certainty, that it could kill him.

“Not cool man, why’d you have to do that?”

Gordon had no intention of answering Benrey, of entertaining whatever game the guard was trying to play. He stared directly at the other man’s silhouette, dragging breaths through his lungs, and watched silently as he spoke.

“Had to be all… all mean about it. Just wanted to see what it was like here, but then you went all ‘Ohh I’m Gordon Feetman and I hate Benrey for something that’s not his fault.’ and you’re kicking me out… not epic bro.”

Benrey’s words went unanswered as Gordon stood, fighting off panic so that he could _get Benrey out, get him away, be alone_. He was exhausted yet wired, residual adrenaline from the dream making his hands shake. The other man seemed to catch this, and he heard shuffling as Benrey walked closer. The guard fumbled with the counter, and he watched Benrey’s silhouette stumble before catching himself. Gordon stood frozen, irrational fear bubbling up in the back of his head as his mind screamed danger. And how much could he trust that Benrey wouldn’t hurt him? Gordon had killed him, watched him die. His thoughts looped back to the dreams as the other man slowly made his way over to Gordon, breath heavy. 

Were they real? Did he make them up, or was Benrey coming to finish what he’d started in the last nightmare? Gordon didn’t know, but his legs were locked in place, and he couldn’t force them to back away from the other man.

Benrey came to a stop about a foot away from Gordon, completely obscured in shadow beyond the shine of his eyes, flat and bright, animalistic. He opened his mouth, blue shining at the back of his throat, and all at once Gordon regained control of his limbs.

“Get the _fuck_ away from me!” Gordon hissed, teeth clenched as his hand fell from the couch and he stepped back from Benrey, whose mouth had snapped shut. “Don’t try to- try to fuck with my head right now, _you dick_. I don’t want you using that manipulative bullshit on me.”

“Cringe.”

“I can’t fucking- just leave, asshole! Can’t you see that you’re literally the last person I want to be around right now?” His hands hadn’t stopped shaking, and while he realized that angering the eldritch predator in the room with him was probably a poor choice, he’d never been good at containing his anger, especially when he was stressed. “God, why couldn’t you stay dead?”

Benrey didn’t respond, eyes blank as he stared at Gordon. Gordon could have sworn he saw a shadow pass across the shine of the guard’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he couldn’t be sure. Benrey’s eyes focused on Gordon again, and he shifted his weight, rocking back on the balls of his feet.

“Huh? Who died?” He asked with a patronizing lilt to his voice that made Gordon’s blood boil.

“Benrey.” Gordon took a step forwards despite his mind’s warnings of danger, anger winning over fear. His voice was rough, emotionless in its gravity. “Get out of here.” 

Benrey’s eyes widened before narrowing as if he was going to protest, but he paused, silence falling on the two of them once more. Finally, he spoke.

“Okay fine, _Feetman_ , see if I share my free month of Playstation Plus with you once I get it.” He turned, muttering under his breath as he moved to the door, where he turned around to look at Gordon. Something in his voice almost sounded genuinely upset, but Gordon wasn’t buying it for a second. “Bro, your hospitality skills need a lot of work. This one is going in the cringe comp.”

With that, he turned back to the door, opening it and slipping out of Gordon’s apartment. As soon as it closed behind the guard Gordon slumped against his couch, lowering himself to sit on the cushion, head in his hands. The darkness surrounding him felt tangible, and he fumbled to turn on the lamp next to the sofa.

His heart raced, and his body was still shaking from the dream as well as his encounter with Benrey. His mind kept cycling back to his dreams, and he found himself questioning what he knew. Did he just imagine Benrey? Was he going insane? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure, and some part of him wished that he was still dreaming. A different, quieter part of his brain whispered that he shouldn’t have kicked Benrey out, that he’d treated him badly, that Benrey was obviously faring poorly. He elected to ignore it. 

Benrey’s face, splattered with blood as he bled out in front of him, flashed across Gordon’s eyes, and he gripped his face hard enough for it to hurt. A splitting pain emanated from his left temple, and the cold look of young Benrey’s eyes rose to his mind, unbidden. That part of the dream had felt different from the last. Less lucid. He didn’t know what it meant, and he was steadfastly ignoring what Benrey had said to him before he died. Gordon couldn’t understand what any of it meant, couldn’t figure out why his mind was doing this. Benrey’s appearance in his apartment made him think he had some hand in the nightmares, but the guard hadn’t shown any indication of having done so. 

He itched to talk to someone, to bounce his theories off of another person. He’d always worked better with others. Most of all, he didn’t want to be alone. His apartment was small, but at the moment it felt huge, and the lingering paranoia from Benrey’s visit made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He stood from the couch, circling his living room and turning on the lights one by one. Something about the action was comforting, and the added light helped chase away the feeling of being watched. Gordon came back around to the couch, sitting back down and considering his options. He could stay awake, stewing in his own anxiety, but exhaustion was already weighing heavy on his eyelids. Going back to sleep meant he was risking having another nightmare, but apathy was creeping in, numbing him to the prospect of dreaming once more. The past week of avoiding sleep had been hell, and conflicting feelings were better than sleep deprivation, he’d learned.

He stood, mind made up, and moved into his bedroom, turning on the light as he entered. His phone, which he’d finally replaced, was charging on the edge of his bed and he picked it up, shooting a message to the Science Team’s group chat before passing out, sleep pulling him down.

**Gordon (3:17 am)**

Benrey is back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oguhgjh sorry this chap is so short and that it took me so long!! i had. a lot of trouble with it for some reason :-/////. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! there should be some science team interactions in the next chap :-]. thanks to all of you for the support!! ausdfbhjg it makes me so happy to see that people are enjoying the fic!! <3333
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! @dxisychains or @pogbenrey <3
> 
> ALSO!! a huge huge huge thank you to everyone who's made art for this fic!! i literally go insane any time i see it, it makes me so happy. it's such an incredible feeling to see people inspired by this thing that i've created, so thank you!! <3


	7. have you heard the story of the guy who decided not to die?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gordon remembers something. or does he? who fucking knows. also, the science team goes to denny's.

A lone bird sang, its lilting call wafting on the hot summer air, mingling with the orchestra of other noises permeating the clearing. Gordon was laying on his back, eyes staring at the sky above him. There weren’t many clouds today, he noted idly, watching a single patch of cotton white move across his field of vision. The sky was a brilliant blue, and every once in a while a bird or bug would speed across the opening in the foliage, catching Gordon’s focus for a moment before disappearing. The forest surrounding him hummed, and it felt alive in a way he couldn’t put into words.

He brought his hand up to his face, adjusting his glasses. There was a fracture in the left lens, a result of his earlier wrestling match with Ben; although it wasn’t large enough to warrant any concern from the boy. Mind catching on the thought of his friend, Gordon let his head tilt to the side, cheek pressing into the grass as he looked at the boy lying next to him. 

Ben’s head was pillowed on his right arm where he was sprawled next to Gordon, sleeping in the late afternoon sun. His left arm was thrown across his stomach, hand hanging limply over the grass. The other boy’s hair fell wildly across his face, thick and tangled. Gordon thought that there might be a few leaves stuck in there, although he couldn’t be sure. His eyes fell to Ben’s face, and he unconsciously shifted closer to the other boy. Ben looked like… Gordon couldn’t put it to words. It was something about how the sunlight fell across his face, mottled shadows swaying with the leaves, shining off of his hair. Something about his expression, tranquil in his rest, that made Gordon’s cheeks burn. 

_Beautiful_ , his mind supplied. _He’s beautiful_. But that was weird, right? Thinking his best friend was beautiful?

Without thinking, Gordon reached forwards, carefully so as not to wake his friend, and brushed a lock of hair out of Ben’s face. His heart quickened as his fingers brushed the other boy’s cheek, barely touching it. This was dumb, Ben was going to wake up and see him and think he was strange. But still, he found his eyes drawn to his friend. Looking was fine, it wasn’t like he couldn’t look at his best friend, that would be stupid. Gordon dropped his hand, resting it near Ben’s dangling fingers. What would happen if he took Ben’s hand? Would he wake up, pull away? Gordon reached up, tentatively, and lightly pressed the pads of his fingers to Ben’s palm. His hand was cold like always, a welcome change in temperature from the muggy air.

The other boy shifted in his sleep, hair falling back in his face, and Gordon ripped his hand back, heart pounding. His face burned with embarrassment and a feeling Gordon couldn’t place, and he covered it with his hands, blowing out a long breath. What was he _thinking_? That was Ben! He wasn’t… wasn’t beautiful or whatever Gordon’s stupid brain tried to say he was. Ben thought fart jokes were funny! He’s an idiot, nothing more. 

_And he’s a boy._ Gordon’s mind whispered. _Boys can’t think other boys are beautiful._

Gordon sighed, scrubbing his hands across his cheeks to get his blush to go away. He just needed to stop being weird about it. If he ignored it, it’d go away, so he just had to stop thinking about it. About Ben. Mind settled, he sat up, splaying his fingers in the grass and running his other hand through his hair to rake out any stray leaves that may have gotten tangled in it. He looked to the sky, gauging how long he had until dusk before looking over at his friend. He could let Ben sleep, but there was still more time to go explore and he didn’t want to get cut off by sundown.

He deliberated for a second before leaning over and shaking Ben’s shoulder, hard enough to wake him, but not violently. The other boy grumbled, turning away from Gordon and shifting so that his face was planted in the ground. He spoke, voice thick with sleep and muffled by the grass currently cushioning his face.

“Why- why’d you… uh…” Ben flipped over onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes to block out the sun. “wake me up? I was napping… loser.”

Gordon laughed, tucking his knees into his chest and watching the other boy. “I wanna d-do something, if it gets dark while we’re out I’ll have to go home.” He saw Ben’s expression change and the other boy lolled his head to the side to meet Gordon’s eyes. “We still have a few more hours… we could like… explore, or something.”

He paused, looking at Ben. The other boy was watching him with a strange expression that Gordon couldn’t place, that he hadn’t seen before. 

“What? Why are you looking- looking at me like that?”

“Huh?”

“You’re looking at me all weird, dude.” Gordon’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck, and he looked away from Ben, who was still laying with his face half-pressed into the dirt.

“No, I’m not… you’re the one being weird.” Ben smiled, obviously pleased at having deflected Gordon’s statement. “I’m like… so chill right now. Not weird at all. You wish you were as normal and chill as me.”

Gordon huffed, standing up and stretching. The sun was warm on his face and he looked back down at Ben. The air around the other boy was shimmering, a haze surrounding him that was almost… _pink? Huh. It was probably a trick of the light_ , he thought, nudging Ben’s torso with his foot. His friend rolled onto his back, staring up at Gordon and pouting. “C’mon, lazy. I wanna check out what’s up north.”

The other boy scrutinized Gordon’s face for a moment, and Gordon could feel his cheeks grow warm as Ben’s oddly intense stare passed over him before lifting as his friend let out a short laugh. The boy flung his hand up, wiggling his fingers, and attempted to look pleading. “Help me up? I can’t do it alone because some mean dude woke me up from my nap.”

God, Gordon’s best friend was a dork.

He laughed in return, leaning over and gripping Ben’s hand. It was cold, icy where Gordon’s palm was burning. He pulled, hoisting the other boy into a sitting position and rolling his eyes as Ben batted his eyelashes, holding up his other hand and smirking in Gordon’s direction. 

“You’re such a dork,” Gordon said, vocalizing his earlier thoughts as he helped Ben stand. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Ben paused, stretching and turning his face towards Gordon. “It’s because I’ve… uh… I’ve latched onto you like a leech. I’m slowly- slowly sucking all of your life out of you and you’re gonna die soon. Shoulda seen my master plan earlier, dude.” He pulled a face and stuck out his tongue, holding his hands out like claws in Gordon’s direction. “My brain worms are in your head now, you’ll never be able to get rid of me”

“Oh no… Ben, I can’t believe you would do this! To- to me, your very best friend? Evil!” Gordon’s voice rose with false horror, and he gripped at his chest as if in pain, letting out a loud laugh. Ben laughed as well, deep and rough in an attempt to sound menacing, and grabbed at his friend’s shoulders. Gordon smiled, pushing Ben’s hands down and walking to the northern side of the clearing, staring into the underbrush. “I say we just walk in and see what we find, what do you think?”

He turned his head to the side, looking at Ben who was slowly walking up to meet him, yawning. Ben was silent for a second before looking at Gordon. “Huh?”

“Don’t start that again Ben! You’re so annoying.” Gordon shoved Ben, laughing. His friend leaned against him, wrapping his arm around Gordon’s shoulders. Gordon’s face burned, and he resigned himself to his newest attachment, as he knew Ben wouldn’t get off anytime soon. The other boy seemed to thrive off of contact, and Gordon would be a bad friend to deprive him of that, right?

“Huh? What?” Ben responded, looking around with an exaggerated face of confusion. Gordon rolled his eyes, attempting to shove the other boy, although the arm around his shoulders rendered it a bit ineffective.

“C’mon, let’s go! The sun isn’t gonna wait for us.” He began delving into the forest, and Ben dropped his arm from Gordon’s shoulders, grabbing his hand instead. Gordon looked at the other boy and saw that Ben was blushing, face turned away from his friend. He looked nervous, and Gordon chose not to say anything, instead just squeezing the other boy’s hand in quiet reassurance.

The two boys trekked, hand in hand, through the woods, one of them pausing every so often to point something out to the other. The trees were alight with chatter and the soft sound of laughter as they explored the land around them. Gordon’s cheeks hurt from smiling as they bounded through the undergrowth, and his hand had grown sweaty in Ben’s grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to drop it. The two of them slowed to a steady walk and Gordon took the time to look over the boy next to him. 

Ben’s face was flushed from the heat, hair curling around it in a tangled mass. Gordon resisted the temptation to run his hand through it, ignoring the thought as it rose, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind. He shifted his hand in Ben’s, interlocking their fingers, and looked forwards once more, blood rushing to his cheeks. Something about changing the hold felt… different in some way.

A lot of things had been feeling different lately. Specifically related to Ben, although his feelings for the boy were never sour. They were just… something else.

Oh. Huh.

Gordon was going to ignore that for now. 

Ben stopped abruptly and Gordon stumbled, falling against him as the other boy stood still, listening to the forest. Ben looked at his friend, eyes alight, and his hand tightened around Gordon’s. “Hear that?”

“What?” Gordon strained his ears, trying to hear whatever Ben had, but to no avail. All that reached him were the typical noises of the forest. “I can’t hear anything.” 

“There’s like… water up ahead, dude.” Upon seeing Gordon’s confused look he tugged on the other boy’s hand, pulling him ahead through the trees.

Gordon stumbled after his friend, avoiding tree roots and thistles as Ben marched forwards. The boy was walking with ease, listening to something Gordon couldn’t hear.

“Where are- where are you taking us, Ben?”

Ben didn’t answer, instead coming to a stop at the edge of the treeline. Gordon bumped into him before settling back, eyes fixing on what Ben had found.

In front of them was a large pool of water, collecting in a dip in the bank of a stream. The water swirled through it lazily, and Gordon could see the sky reflected on its surface. It sparkled in the late afternoon sun, leaves and pollen drifting along with the current slowly. Ben looked at Gordon with a huge grin and all Gordon could do was stare. The light reflected off of the pool onto Ben’s face, wavering around the other boy’s features, and Gordon watched--transfixed--as it highlighted his eyes. His face was burning.

The strange expression from earlier flitted across Ben’s face, and Gordon could swear he heard a soft humming. He considered it for a minute before brushing it off as noise from the forest surrounding them. Ben’s hand was cold in his as he moved to stand closer to the other boy.

“Dude…” Gordon’s eyes moved to meet Ben’s, and he smiled at the other boy. “You’re so cool! How did you hear the water? I can barely hear it from where I’m standing! Ben, you’re like- like some kind of superhero or something!”

Ben blushed, looking away from his friend and rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Don’t make it- make it weird… bro, I dunno how I heard it I just… just did, y’know?”

“Well, I think it’s really cool.”

The other boy blushed harder and the humming noise from earlier returned. “What- whatever dude. Don’t make it weird.”

They began to move down towards the water, and Gordon could feel Ben’s eyes on him.

“What?” Gordon looked at Ben questioningly, but the other was silent until they reached the bank of the stream. He released Gordon’s hand, sitting on the edge of the water. Gordon stood still for a moment before dropping down next to him and staring at the water. There was a short stretch of silence, but it was comfortable. Being around Ben was easy like that. Finally, the other boy spoke.

“You… you like being around me, right?”

“Huh?”

“Even though I don’t have a family? And I hear things weird and you have to- to say things twice to me sometimes?” Where did this come from? Gordon tried to meet Ben’s eyes but the other wouldn’t look at him.

“Ben…” He brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and leaning against the other boy. “You’ll always be my best friend. That stuff doesn’t mean anything to me, alright? You’re super cool and I like spending time with you and that’s- that’s what matters.”

Gordon could feel Ben’s frame shake from where they were pressed together and he reached out his arm, resting it around the other boy’s torso and letting his head fall to Ben’s shoulder.

“I’ll always be your friend.”  
+++

Gordon woke slowly, and he was crying.

He didn’t know why. There was no way he could explain the tears running down his cheeks. They weren’t hard, he wasn’t sobbing, but something felt wrong. There was a pit in his stomach, pressure on the back of his throat, but he couldn’t think of why.

Gordon sat silently for a moment, wracking his brain for an explanation. He couldn’t remember his dream, if he had one at all, he just remembered stumbling to bed and passing out after… 

Benrey. 

_Fuck,_ Benrey was alive! He shot up, grabbing his glasses and put them on. Nothing seemed different, but Gordon couldn’t be sure. He knew the guard had left his apartment last night, but he didn’t trust that Benrey wouldn’t pull some bullshit and show up in his room. His search warranted nothing, and he warily sat back against his bedframe, picking up his phone from where it was charging.

**Tommy (6:45 am)**  
what do you mean mr. gordon???

**Tommy (6:47 am)**  
are you okay?? 

Tommy’s texts continued periodically for an hour or so until Dr. Coomer and Bubby apparently woke up. Gordon checked the time, looking to see how much he missed. It was a bit after nine, so hopefully they didn’t cause too much chaos while he was sleeping.

**Dr. Coomer (8:03 am)**  
Oh! This is worrying!

Worrying was good word for it. 

Gordon scrolled further, skimming over the messages. They were mostly in the same vein as the previous texts, with Dr. Coomer recounting Bubby’s words in lieu of the man using his own phone. By nine the general consensus was that they should meet somewhere so that Gordon could explain further. He felt a bit bad for dropping a bombshell and then passing out, but now that he was awake, it was a bit easier to process the events of the night before.

Not to say that it was easy to process them, because holy shit.

**Gordon (9:07 am)**  
Sorry guys, I was asleep. We can meet somewhere and talk more.

**Dr. Coomer (9:07 am)**  
Hello Gordon!

**Gordon (9:07 am)**  
Hey Dr. Coomer.

**Gordon (9:08 am)**  
Where do you guys want to meet?

**Tommy (9:09 am)**  
dennys!!

Gordon realized a second too late that allowing the others to choose where they went may have been a mistake.

**Gordon (9:09 am)**  
D

**Gordon (9:09 am)**  
Denny’s? Why?

**Dr. Coomer (9:10 am)**  
My dear Dr. Bubby agrees with Tommy! He said that he is banned from most other restaurants in the area, so Denny’s is good!

**Dr. Coomer (9:10 am)**  
I think Denny’s is a wonderful idea!

This was most definitely a terrible idea.

**Gordon (9:11 am)**  
Denny’s it is… I guess…

**Tommy (9:11 am)**  
!!! :-D

Gordon sighed, setting down his phone as the others figured out when they’d meet. The tears from earlier had dried on his cheeks, and his head felt heavy. He rubbed his cheek, standing from his bed and walking to the bathroom. Gordon leaned on the sink and looked himself over in the mirror. His eyes were rung with dark shadows, exhaustion evident, and he frowned, watching how his face stretched.

His eyes fell to his hands where they gripped the porcelain. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around the sink that his knuckles were pale, and he slowly released his hold. He hadn’t meant to do that.

Another glance to the mirror, and he tried to smile, watching as the skin around his eyes wrinkled. He felt older than ever before. But it wasn’t disheartening, rather, reassuring. He wasn’t that scared, lonely kid, wasn’t that neurotic and anti-social MIT grad. He had people he cared about, and people who cared about him. Benrey wouldn’t ruin that for him.

Gordon wouldn’t let him.

+++

The Denny’s parking lot was almost deserted when Gordon arrived. While he wasn’t entirely surprised, as it was almost ten on a weekday, it made things a bit easier for him. He loved the others, he really did, but the less exposure they had to unsuspecting civilians the better. He could see Tommy talking animatedly with Bubby and Dr. Coomer near the entrance, and he smiled, parking his car.

He approached the others, lifting his hand to wave at Dr. Coomer who had seen him first with a shout of his signature greeting.

“What took you so long? I’m fucking hungry!” Bubby was as lovely as always.

“Sorry, Bubby. Got a little caught up with traffic.” Gordon came to stop next to Tommy, smiling and resting his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “How’ve you guys been?”

“A morning in traffic is a morning of self-reflection, Gordon!”

“I don’t- Okay.”

“Of course, I have little trouble with traffic, cars avoid me!” Coomer waved his arm around as he spoke, narrowly missing hitting Gordon. His other arm was currently resting around Bubby’s waist, who was watching the others and tapping his foot in an almost comical display of impatience. Tommy turned to Gordon, grinning as he flapped his hand in response to Gordon’s question. Gordon squeezed the other man’s shoulder before looking towards the restaurant. 

“Should we head in?” He paused, thinking for a second. “Not gonna lie, Denny’s kinda sucks.”

“Shut up! I want food, not your wrong opinion!” Seemingly finished speaking, Bubby began to walk towards the front doors, closely followed by Dr. Coomer. Gordon shared a look with Tommy before entering the restaurant behind the other two.

They were seated, and Gordon found himself staring down at the menu, questioning whether or not even ordering anything was worth it. Denny’s seemed like the type of place that would give him food poisoning if he drank the water. He glanced up at the others, eyes skating the booth they’d shoved themselves into. Coomer and Bubby were giggling to themselves over something on the pages of the menu, and Tommy was meticulously shredding one of the napkins into pieces to sort into small piles. 

Gordon nudged the other man with his foot. Tommy looked up, staring at Gordon inquisitively, before noticing Gordon’s glance to his menu and nodding. The older man smiled softly and pointed to show that he knew what he was ordering before going back to his napkin. Gordon sighed, looking back down at his menu, and stared blankly at it for a few minutes until the soft speaking from the other side of the booth stopped. 

He lifted his head, and Coomer’s look across the top of his menu had him setting it back down to rest on the linoleum.

“What’s up, bud?”

“Well, Gordon… I believe we should speak about why we are here. Sitting in this Denny’s establishment.” Gordon ran a hand down his face. Right. He’d been avoiding thinking about… that. 

“Yeah… yeah, okay. Alright.” He met Coomer’s eyes and he knew the other two were watching him. Did he really have to do this? Why did he think communication was a good idea. “Benrey.”

Tommy rested his hand on Gordon’s shoulder, looking at him with concern. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “You don’t- don’t have to talk about everything, all of the… dreams and stuff. But I think we should at- at least go over what you meant in your text last night. I-” 

He cut himself off, brow creasing as he tried to formulate his words. “I was worried about you.”

“We all were. Gordon, you did drop what is essentially a nuclear bomb and then disappear! I believe we were understandably worried!” Coomer’s sunny disposition seemed to sharpen at that moment. Gordon cringed, hands twisting together under the table. The doctor was right, it probably wasn’t the best move to tell them Benrey’d returned and then immediately fall asleep. He felt bad for worrying them, but it was overshadowed by the myriad of emotions he felt about Benrey at that moment.

“You’re right, I- I shouldn’t have scared you-”

“I wasn’t scared!” Bubby sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. “You can do whatever the fuck you want. I’m not gonna worry about you.”

“Right, yeah. Thanks, Bubby.”

Fuck, this was hard.

“So. Benrey is back.

“I don’t fucking- I don’t know how, I don’t know what he wants. All I know is that I had a weird fucking dream last night and then he showed up in my kitchen.” Gordon settled back against the booth, rubbing his eyes. His dream from the night before felt like it happened centuries ago, after everything with Benrey. His heart beat faster as he thought about it.

“Gordon, do you think Benrey may have been a hallucination from your adrenaline and obvious sleep deprivation?”

Something about Coomer’s sentence startled a laugh out of Gordon, and he shook his head, staring down at the table. “I- I considered that. But he was real. I’m absolutely certain of that.”

Coomer hummed, staring at Gordon contemplatively before speaking again. “You mentioned a strange dream. Is that perhaps related to the dreams we spoke about last week?”

“Sort of?” He glanced at Tommy, who gave him a reassuring smile, and Bubby, who rolled his eyes and waved Gordon on. “It was... well, it started as a fuckin’- memory or something like that? I guess? Like, I didn’t remember it when it started, but I know that it was a memory because I remember it now, right?”

“It was like… a day. From when I was younger. Like, nine or ten? And it was… me… and my friend. My best friend.” This was harder than it should be. Something about the dream felt personal, too intimate to just… talk about. “It just seemed normal at first, right? But then Benrey showed up, and he started talking about how it was fucking… important or some shit like that.” 

Gordon ran a hand over his face. “And I guess… I mean- yeah. The dream was pretty fucking important, he wasn’t lying.”

“What- What happened?” Tommy’s question was tentative, wary.

“A lot. I guess the basic gist of it was about me and this- this kid I used to know. He was my best friend--my only friend--when I was younger. But from what I could gather, I was the- the only one who could see him. Everyone else thought he was imaginary.”

“That makes no fucking sense! You must have been crazy as a kid.”

“Bubby…” Dr. Coomer was uncharacteristically serious, brow furrowed as he looked to his husband. “Let Gordon explain. I don’t… we need to know what’s happening, dear.”

Bubby huffed but relented, staring at Gordon. His gaze was almost tangible, and Gordon shifted in his seat, scratching the back of his neck.

“In the memory… we fought. I told him that I hated him…” Gordon thinks back to the argument. “I told him to leave. He, my friend, was… was upset, and he left. I don’t think I ever saw him again after that.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. The rest of the dream would only get harder to explain from there. Tommy shifted in the booth and Gordon glanced at him. 

The other man was resting his chin on his hand, deep in thought, and he looked distressed. A moment of silence stretched between the men at the table before Tommy looked up, meeting Gordon’s eyes and speaking. 

“Your- your friend as a kid… was he Benrey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I'M SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG OH GODDDDDD. my adhd said i'm not allowed to write anymore and i died. ANYWAYS!! IF YOU KEPT INTEREST IN THE TIME IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS I LOVE YOU!! I FUCKING ADORE YOU!!!!! the next chap should be out much quicker, even if it kills me. sorry for not answering comments either!! everything is sort of a mess right now but just know that i read all of them and consume them for mana.
> 
> i appreciate everyone who reads this! thank you so fucking much i mean it i love y'all.
> 
> find me on tumblr, @dxisychains or @pogbenrey
> 
> hope you enjoyed the chap! every comment or kudos is.... one food crime from me to you


	8. he figured living was just easier than falling really high.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> conversations continue. gordon makes a phonecall.

Gordon’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“You- How’d you know?”

“When… back when Benrey and I were- were… in Black Mesa. He was my-“ Tommy paused, and he smiled sadly. “He was my best friend.”

Oh. Gordon hadn’t known that they’d been friends. He met Coomer’s eyes, trying to see if the other’d been aware. Coomer gave him a small shake of his head, looking back to Tommy. Bubby yielded the same result.

Tommy continued speaking, oblivious to the looks the other three were exchanging. “He didn’t t-talk much about his childhood, you know? But I just thought it was because there wasn’t much… much noteworthy about it.

“I asked him one day. If- if he had any friends when he was younger. I never really had many, because of everything with my dad, but I thought maybe he did! I just wanted to- to know more about him.” The older man brought his hand up to rub at his elbow. “We were best friends but I didn’t- didn’t actually know that much about who he was. And that was fine! Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t care, I was just curious.”

His hand dropped from his elbow, fingers drumming on the linoleum table. His face was somber, a slight frown stretching his features. Gordon looked away from Tommy. Was he the reason Benrey didn’t like to talk about his childhood? Did Gordon ruin it so much that he never spoke of it at all? Gordon’s stomach roiled against him, a dark pit of something that he couldn’t pinpoint pooling slowly in his gut. Guilt, maybe. He tried to shake off those thoughts. It didn’t matter, Benrey’s feelings about him or their ill-fated friendship didn’t excuse his actions.

“What did he say?” Gordon spoke tentatively, quietly, breaking the sudden pervasive silence that had enveloped the table. Balanced on a razor’s edge between anticipation and a bone-deep understanding. He was suddenly grateful that the Denny’s had horrible service. There was no way to focus on something like breakfast with the thick wariness that’d settled over the group.

“He was… defensive, I guess. At first. He-he joked about it but I didn’t… I could see that he was upset about something. I told him he didn’t have to answer if he d-didn’t want to, but he… brushed me off.

“Benrey told me about how he was friends with a boy when he was… young. Really young, I think. I’m not sure he experienced time like humans.” Tommy laughed quietly, staring at the table. “He said that they did… e-everything together, but that the boy left him behind like Benrey was- was nothing to him. I don’t-”

Tommy’s hand paused its tapping, falling flat as he rubbed his thumb along the side of his pointer finger. Gordon watched his expression fall, darkening. “He was upset about it… even after all of those years. Angry, sad, whatever. I didn’t know what to- to say.” 

He looked up to meet Gordon’s gaze, shakily smiling. “It’s easier to read how to help in books. I’m not- not good at it when I actually talk to people, you know? I’m like… like a burnt-out lightbulb… should be able to help but I can’t. Ha.

“I didn’t say anything then but… but if I had, maybe he wouldn’t have been as mad at you when he met you. I should’ve talked to him.” Tommy’s hand shifted into a fist, quietly knocking the surface of the table. “Maybe he’d still be here if I’d been better.”

Somehow—inexplicably—despite the fact that Gordon had known what Tommy was going to say, it still felt like an entirely new revelation. The pool of that dark something lurking in Gordon’s stomach boiled, and he felt almost as if he was going to vomit. Was it guilt? Sitting stagnantly in his gut, sliding up his throat until he felt like he was choking? Guilt, or anger? He couldn’t tell. Almost didn’t want to. It was better to let that pitch black feeling sit untouched. Gordon felt almost as if he approached it he’d be consumed. No, ignoring it was infinitely easier. 

Gordon didn’t know what to say. He looked helplessly to Coomer, but the other didn’t seem to notice him. Tommy was sitting quietly, staring down at the table. 

“No, fuck that!” Surprised, Tommy and Gordon both looked to Bubby, who was sitting up straight from where he’d been slouching, anger on his face. “It’s not your fault that Benrey was an asshole, and beating yourself up over it is just outright stupid! He fucking chose to do what he did, and it’s nobody’s fault but his own.

“So what if he was angry at Gordon, right? It doesn’t fucking matter, because he was the one who made the dumbass decision to try to us over it!” Gordon opened his mouth and then closed it, rendered a bit speechless. “I don’t want to sit here and wallow in self-pity over something none of us could fucking control. You guys may be idiots, but you’re better than that, alright assholes?”

Tommy let out a small laugh, breathless, and rubbed the back of his neck, nodding. “Yeah- yeah. You’re right. I… thanks, Mr. Bubby.”

“Very eloquently put, my dear professor!” Coomer beamed at his husband and Gordon looked away from the two. 

Bubby’s protests to Coomer calling him a professor faded, unheard as Gordon turned over what Tommy said. Bubby was right, Benrey’s actions were of no fault but his own, but Gordon couldn’t help but think that maybe he could have prevented it. Maybe not as a child, but if he’d been kinder in Black Mesa would anything of changed?

There was no use lingering on the past, he knew that. 

But he kept coming back to the dreams. To Benrey in his kitchen. The look in his eyes as he tried to get Gordon to understand why he did what he did. Were they justified? The things Benrey did? Gordon knew the answer to that question. His head spun, new questions cropping up with each thought.

How badly did he hurt Benrey that it was worthy of murder? Sure, it must have been painful, losing his only friend, but to the extent that his mind justified killing multiple people? 

_”What if you had to go through life knowing that the only person who could ever comprehend what you were hated you?”_

That’s what Benrey had told him. Back in the dream, standing in the forest. Gordon’s hand tensed, tapping the table slightly as he thought. He conceded to himself that it made sense for Benrey to be angry at Gordon for leaving him when nobody else could see him if Gordon’s mother’s words were any indication; but he’d obviously gained the skill to be seen, considering Black Mesa. It wasn’t as if Gordon had meant to leave Benrey like that, he’d just been a kid! He’d been a stupid kid, sure, but he hadn’t meant to do that to the other.

There was a lot to consider, and although it was dulled by the things Gordon had learned, the burning mass of fear and anger that rose up every time he thought of Benrey was still there. He knew that the extent to which he felt it was irrational- at the very least, Benrey’s actions now had a concrete cause where they hadn’t before. 

Granted, it was shaky at best and a bit of a shitty excuse for attempted murder, but a cause nonetheless.

“Mr. Gordon?” A hand brushed his shoulder and he started, Tommy’s voice and touch interrupting his thoughts. Gordon looked to the other man, who had a concerned expression on his face. “Y- you okay? The waitress came to- to take our orders and you looked busy so I just told- told her that you didn’t want anything,” He frowned. “I hope that’s alright!”

Gordon gave Tommy what he hoped was a reassuring smile, blowing out a soft breath. He hadn’t meant to get so distracted, something about Benrey--even when he wasn’t there--made it hard to register anything else. 

“That’s fine, Tommy. I’m… I’m not that hungry anyway.”

It wasn’t a lie either, he realized. He wasn’t hungry. Thinking about Benrey killed his appetite.

“Well- Hello Gordon!” Coomer smiled at Gordon, gesturing with his hands. “Good to see you back with us! Now, you explained that Benrey was appearing in your dreams, which--however telling of your mental state it is--does not constitute his return. I assume there is still more to tell us?” 

He nodded tiredly in response and paused, thinking over the night before. “I… I guess it’s easiest to just… He showed up in my kitchen last night. And he was- he was real. I don’t know how I could tell but he wasn’t some fucking- fucking hallucination or something.

“We fought, fucking- obviously, because I’m not letting that asshole back into my house. I don’t even know how he’s alive. All I know is that he probably did some twisted bullshit to come back to life, and I kicked him out”. Tommy shifted in his seat next to Gordon, and Gordon looked at him. The older man’s face was creased in concern as he stared at the table. “I don’t know where he went after that.”

“Why the fuck would he even try to come back?” Bubby’s voice was soaked with rage, and it was steadily growing louder as he spoke. Coomer attempted to calm him, but the other brushed him off. “He knew that he wouldn’t be welcomed, but the asshole decided to show up and bother you anyway? Bullshit! Let him come back again, I’ll wreck his shit.”

At this point, their booth was receiving looks from the others in the restaurant. Coomer seemed to register the situation at the same time as Gordon and sighed, looking at his husband. Bubby was continuing to rant about Benrey and his hands were beginning to smolder, face growing red with anger. With an indulgent smile, Coomer stood from the booth, hooking his hand around Bubby’s arm and steering the other man towards the exit. 

“Well, I suppose Dr. Bubby and I should go… cool down a bit before we are forcibly removed from this establishment! Feel free to help yourselves to our meals.” With that he turned, nodding indulgently as Bubby yelled. 

Gordon looked eyes with Tommy, who laughed quietly and looked back down at the table.

Silence fell across the two, although it wasn’t uncomfortable. Tommy had resumed tearing up the straw wrapper he’d abandoned earlier, and Gordon sat quietly, mind beginning to move towards the subject of Benrey once more. The second part of the dream--after the conversation with his younger self--continued to perplex him. He couldn’t bring himself to talk about it with the others yet. About what Benrey said to him. 

About how real the other’s death felt, and the bullet through his skull.

He’d rather keep quiet.

He barely registered the food arriving, Tommy asking for the check and giving an excuse for their abrupt leave. Gordon sat, distracted by the memory of blood on his hands.

It wasn’t real. He knew that. Benrey barely even noticed when he got shot, and he’d certainly never bled out in Gordon’s arms.

It wasn’t real, Gordon told himself. He’d never felt Benrey’s body go limp, never held him close as his skin grew cold--colder than normal, never- 

No. It never happened. He couldn’t focus on something like that, or else he’d go insane.

He sat up straighter in the booth, looking over at Tommy. That was the second time in one sitting that he’d gotten distracted thinking about Benrey, which was… worrying to say the least. Gordon watched Tommy shift beside him. Finally, the other man turned towards him, opening and closing his mouth a few times; as if he’d decided to say something and forgotten it as soon as he opened his mouth.  
A moment passed in silence, each of them watching the other, searching for something on their faces. Tommy broke the gaze, angling himself forwards again, eyes flicking to the window before turning back down to the table.

“Is it… is it bad that I miss him?” 

Gordon didn’t expect that but at the same time, it didn’t surprise him.

“I don’t- don’t know how to say it in a way that makes sense, but… I miss how he was. And I know… I know that he did fucked up things. That he tried to k-kill us.” Tommy wrung his hands together, fingers lightly tapping against each other. “But I think… I think if he came back...”

He looked at Gordon, and his eyes were sad. It struck him then, how much this must be affecting Tommy. Benrey had been his best friend, and Tommy helped kill him. It had obviously been hard on him. Gordon probably hadn’t helped. He had a right to be angry at the guard, but he knew he could have been less vocally harsh about it.

“I think that if he- he came back, I’d forgive him. He just… he needs someone, Mr. Gordon. And I- I can help him. I know that I can.”

“Tommy…”

“I know that you- you think I’m childish or that I don’t- don’t know that much about how things work. And it’s-” Gordon opened his mouth to disagree, and Tommy stopped him, giving Gordon a soft smile. “It’s okay. I know you don’t mean anything bad.

“And I’m a little- a little naive sometimes, I’m aware. But I know Benrey… he’s not mean for no reason. And if he g-gives me a chance, I wanna… wanna be there for him. This time.” 

Tommy’s hands were shaking. 

Gordon didn’t know what to say. 

“I- I don’t know what to say.” The older man was watching him intently, wariness creasing his features. “I’m not… if you want to reconcile with Benrey, I’m not gonna stop you, you know?”

He looked Tommy directly in the eye, lifting his hand to settle it on the other’s shoulder. “Your choices are- are your own. I may not feel the same, but it’s okay.” He tried for a disarming laugh, although it fell a bit flat. “Just- keep him the fuck away from me. I’ve had enough of Benrey for a lifetime.”

Tommy smiled back tentatively, eyes unreadable as his hand fiddled with the check that had been set on the table. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Gordon.”

+++

Gordon dropped his keys on the counter by the door, closing it behind him. Though it was only midday, he could feel a familiar exhaustion settling in. A part of him was tempted to go back to bed, but he resisted, both to keep a mildly reasonable sleep schedule and also to avoid the dreams he knew would come should he sleep.

Not that sleeping at a regular time would chase them away anyways.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he leaned against his counter. There was nothing on his plate for the rest of his day, although… he owed Joshua a call. 

It would be nice, hearing his son again. Gordon wished he could be with him, could see him and speak with him in person, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that at the moment. He’d have to settle for a phone call.

Gordon walked to the phone, picking it up off of the wall and hesitating for a second. He didn’t know how receptive Maria would be to the idea, but the thought of seeing Joshua again had gripped his mind. He wanted it, more than he thought he did. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

He dialed silently, holding the receiver to his ear as it rang hollowly. Each note was a bolt of nerves to his gut. Finally, the click of the phone being picked up on Maria’s side echoed through the line, and Gordon released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.

“Hey, Gordon.” Her voice was soft, and refreshingly level, especially compared to how she’d been when he first got back from Black Mesa. “I’m assuming you’re calling for Joshua? He’s eating right now, but I can give him the phone when he finishes. How’re you doing?”

“I’m…” He pauses. “I’m fine. Doing great. Perfect, even.” _Nice going, dipshit_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like Bubby’s whispers. _Way to sound convincing_. Maria hums in a way that tells Gordon she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying, and he sighs in response. “I’m fine, Maria, really. Just… just tired. Don’t worry about it.”

A moment passes in silence, neither of them quite sure what to say, before Gordon breaks it, fingers tightening around the receiver. “Actually… I wanted- wanted to ask you something. Before I talk to Joshua.”

A small noise filters through the speaker, questioning, and the silence stretches for a moment longer as Gordon considers the merits of asking Maria to let him see his son. He knew that she was likely to agree, but the tangle of nerves in his stomach refused to dissolve. It would be easy to tell her that he forgot what he meant to ask, or that he’d talk to her later, but… the desire to see Joshua was returning in full force.

He knew that he wasn’t the best father. He tried the best he could given his situation, but when one looked at it all objectively, he was a bit remiss in his duties as Joshua’s dad. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but Gordon was aware that he’d already missed one too many birthdays to get entirely in Maria’s--or Joshua’s--good graces. It was easy to say that it was because of his job at Black Mesa, or the distance between him and the other two. Easier to push the blame onto some outside force, to absolve Gordon of any guilt. 

But Gordon knew that doing so would be lying to himself, and to his son. He didn’t have to take the job at Black Mesa. The distance between L.A. and New Mexico didn’t force him to skip Christmas with the other two. If he was going to hold Benrey to his actions, no matter the cause, he’d have to do so for himself as well.

No matter how much it pained Gordon to acknowledge that he’d been regrettably absent in Joshua’s life during his formative years. Reminders of his guilt were present all around him. In the pictures of Joshie on his fridge, the Father’s Day card covered with scribbly cowboys laying in the top drawer of Gordon’s bedside table. 

He was trying to be better, though. It was the least he could do to make up for his past mistakes. He could start small, sure, just by calling more often, taking the time to listen to Joshua, but that pervasive guilt that had been growing since he returned from Black Mesa was urging him to go bigger. It would be so simple to brush his previous statement aside, to pretend he never said anything at all, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

He missed his son.

“I was wondering if- if you’d be okay with letting Joshua come stay with me for a little bit? I haven’t… You know I missed last Christmas, and we haven’t really had a chance any other time, with- with Black Mesa.” The other side of the line was silent, and Gordon hesitated for a second, trying to gauge what Maria was thinking. 

“I… it’s been a rough couple of weeks, Maria.” He steadfastly ignored how his voice wavered, exhaustion saturating his voice. “I haven’t seen Joshie in months and for- for a while there I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again.”

“Gordon, I-”

“Maria. _Please_.” Gordon drew in a long breath and was almost surprised by how it shuddered, passing through his lungs. “I know I wasn’t- haven’t been… the best to you two in the past. I fucked up a lot while we were together, and when we weren’t. I’m not asking for full custody or anything like that, but I- I just need to see him face to face.”

Maria was silent for a moment, and then he heard her blow out a shaky breath, shuffling on the other side of the phone. “I’ll… Okay, yeah. Yeah. We can probably work something out. Joshua’s summer break just started, so we can- can plan without much trouble.”

The flood of relief was instantaneous. Gordon’s shoulders slumped, the tension he hadn’t even noticed build dissipating. He was going to see Joshua again. He was going to see Joshua again. He felt something close to tears prick at his eyes, and he cleared his throat unsteadily, leaning against the wall. There had been a part of him convinced that Maria would never agree. That something would happen and he’d never see his son again. Suddenly, his worries seemed silly. A quiet laugh spilled from his throat, verging on a sob.

“Thank you, Maria. I appreciate it more than I can- can say.”

“Gordon…” He knew that tone, could hear the worry on her voice. Gordon’d heard it many times before, back when they were together, and even more after they split up. He shoved down the guilt that rose in his chest at worrying her, waiting for Maria to speak. “What happened to you? While you were gone.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, floundering around the growing lump in his throat. He didn’t think he could talk about Black Mesa. Not now, not while it was so fresh. Maybe not ever. Each second passed excruciatingly slowly as he attempted to say something in response.

“I can’t- I don’t know-” Gordon fought back the flashes of panic thinking of Black Mesa wrought, blocking out the bloody hallways imprinted on the back of his eyelids. He attempted for a joke. “Would it be cliche to say I grew up?” 

He laughed weakly. Maria did not.

“Gordon. I don’t know what you went through, but you’re obviously having trouble talking about it, and… I’m not going to push you into speaking on anything you aren’t ready for.” She went quiet, and fabric rustled on the other side of the line. When she spoke again her voice was quiet, tired. The undercurrent of worry was still there. “Joshua is done eating. I’ll… I’ll go get him for you. And Gordon?

“Stay safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY DFJHFKLGJDSGFLKJHGALKHDS. this chapter was supposed to be easier but it still. kicked my fuckin ass. and im so sorry about that. thank you everyone who's stuck with this fic!! i adore all of you so so so much i can't even put it to words. thank you. legit y'all make me so happy.
> 
> on that note. i've been absolute shit at responding to comments, and they've built up to a point that i probably cant answer them all anymore, so i'm just gonna. fresh start! this chap onwards i'll be better at answering lol. just know- every comment from y'all is absolutely cherished by me. i love them so much. cradling them.
> 
> that's all!!
> 
> find me on tumblr, @dxisychains or @fxrzen

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written anything in a rlly long time so if this sucked that's why. i got into hlvrai recently and now i'm fucking in this shit for a while. i'll try to keep updating this but i also. suck at keeping motivation for projects lol. honestly we're just projecting onto benrey and seeing how it goes.
> 
> title of the fic and title of this chapter are both from "Sorry, My Dear" by Hobo Johnson
> 
> if you wanna vibe with me on tumblr! my main is @dxisychains and my hlvrai sideblog is @pogbenrey


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